Roses and Fire
by MarbleSky
Summary: A decision that she's had enough leads her to leave the clown for good, and he's not too happy about that. She's relied on him for so long. Is there any way to start over? Not without serving her sentence at Arkham, according to the bat. How will she manage to flee from both hero and villain?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! I've written other stories here before, but this is my first story in the DC Universe. It's something I had saved and wrote a long time ago on a whim after watching some cartoons but never got around to posting. It takes a little while to get going but towards the next chapter. Not sure yet if I'll continue it and write a full story, but I guess that depends on the response I receive. Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

The night stretched endlessly in quiet mourning as the city breathed its toxic fumes, remembering what it was like to be full of life. Of dreams and happiness. Long before crime took over and the joy was sucked away, only to be replaced by the thick smog which filled the air.

She liked the way Gotham was always surrounded by darkness. Even the gloomy clouds above her weren't enough to give the sky a gray tone. There simply wasn't enough light to reflect back down to the city. The gray aura that surrounded them was swallowed whole and returned nothing. Like a mirror that gave no reflection.

It was the perfect mask to hide her emotions. Feelings that she shouldn't have. Not if she wanted to be strong, because feelings only led to vulnerability. Weakness. It was something she had learned a long time ago. The dark of the night enveloped her completely, shrouding her in numbness.

There was a slight breeze in the air that pushed her blond hair to the side. Normally, it would have annoyed her to have her hair all over the place, but she didn't really mind it at the moment. Nothing could get her mind off the stupid clown.

What was the deal with him?

Nothing she ever did or said was enough to make him happy. No amount of work or affection could get him to understand that she wanted to be there for him.

At first she thought that he was only being cautious with her. Fine. Trust had to be gained before anything else happened. Who could blame him for wanting to make sure she was loyal? He hadn't gotten to where he was by being rash and careless.

But then she realized that his care only came as a tool. Only when he needed it.

The only time the Joker ever cared about someone was when he _pretended_ to.

He needed her so that he could break out of Arkham asylum. That much was evident. He had begun a long game of seduction and deceit in order to gain her pity and sympathy. And she couldn't deny that she was attracted to him. Not just him physically, but the life he lived, full of excitement and danger. The adrenaline of it all. So different from the one she was living. She wanted so much to lead a different life, one that included all of that and which also included him.

She shouldn't have wished so hard.

A rose, full of thorns but a rose nonetheless, dreaming of playing with fire. She should have known to stay away. If there was anything she had learned from Ivy, it was that roses and fire did _not_ mix.

Not unless you wanted the rose to burn.

Surprisingly, her life might have ended up just the same. Crime and incarcerations. She could still remember the diamond earrings she had swiped from a shopping mall store at the age of thirteen.

 _Why did you do it, huh? What was the point of it?_

Her parents had yelled at her for a good hour, trying to decipher what pushed her to stuff the small box into the pocket of her jacket and walk out. Of course, back then she wasn't as stealthy, and she was surrounded by security before she reached the door.

The little girl she had once been stood there quietly as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. She was too embarrassed to tell them that she had done it to impress her friends. To prove that she could do it and get away with it. Oh, they had been so insistent and relentless and _mean_ with their dares. Plus, she had tried them on a few minutes earlier and was surprised to see that they actually looked _really_ good on her. Maybe enough to impress the boy with the messy hair who sat two rows down in her math class.

Mom and Dad pushed her to be better. They were both respected doctors and it was natural that she would follow in their footsteps. Decisions like this could ruin the rest of her life and therefore were not tolerated. She went to college and had even gotten an internship to help out the patients at Arkham asylum. So impressive was her work that she was granted the privilege of seeing patients on her own even before finishing her studies, no longer needing the help of a certified doctor.

That's where she met the clown.

His charm was too much for her to see past the lies. With each tale he told, she fell harder and harder for him. She truly began to think that he wasn't as crazy as everyone made him out to be. He was simply…misunderstood. Those situations that involved him where people ended up dead weren't his fault. He was being framed. Or he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. By the time she realized he was beyond deranged and that most of those "accidents" were indeed his own fault, and most of the time of his own orchestration, it was too late. She was a part of that life just as much as he was.

Now her parents were dead. Murdered right in front of her by a man she had never seen before. The Joker was never one to follow orders, but this request from her, the only one he had ever listened to, was too tempting to let pass by.

Looking back, she regretted it. The man was diagnosed with schizophrenia and had a real problem. Couldn't differentiate the real world from the dark twisted tunnels of his mind. No way to tell what was a hallucination and what wasn't. She shouldn't have hated him so much. She should have understood that he didn't mean to kill them. But the hate inside her was so strong, stronger than anything she'd ever felt in her life. With the Joker's help, she was able to track him down so that the clown could carry out Harley's request.

 _Kill him._

But the Joker had some fun first. The man's pain-filled screams exploded into the darkness, drowning out the sick, twisted laugh that came from the clown's throat as he tortured him. By the time the bat got there, the man was practically unrecognizable and had lost too much blood to be saved. Nothing for the bat to do but call the commissioner so the body could be picked up.

With the Joker standing at her side, she had watched from a nearby building as the bat got in his car and rode off into the darkness. She couldn't remember the last time she had smiled that much. The man who had killed her parents was dead and nothing could be done about it. No one could save him, and she didn't want anyone to do so.

She had turned to look at the evil genius behind it all with awe and gratitude. This man, whom she had learned to trust and admire, had given her what she wanted. He was her answer to the problems that seemed to arise no matter what she did. He would give her that life of excitement she was desperately looking for.

Now, seeing how far things had gotten and how much of her life had been spent on seemingly _nothing_ , Harley Quinn looked off into the darkness. She sighed as the cool breeze picked up, tempting her to close her eyes and lean back to lie down. It was relaxing to feel the wind around you and not have anything to worry about.

Harley was sitting on the grass of one of the few parks of Gotham. The gentle wind was pushing the water of the small man-made lake, rippling the surface in waves. She would love to come by in the day and see the ducks swim around and the fish jet back and forth underwater.

But she couldn't show up just anywhere anymore. Especially in the daytime. Not after some of the things she'd done in this city. And all because of _him_.

The wind had caused some of the leaves in the nearby trees to rustle, covering a lot of the noise around her. She should have been expecting someone to sneak up on her. It was in the back of her mind to remain alert in case something happened, but she was much too distracted to care.

"I've been looking for you."

The sound of his voice caused her to jump. She scrambled quickly to her feet and turned to face him in almost no time.

Harley had to squint for a moment to see him, locating him in the shadows of a large tree. She knew to search in the darkness because that's what the bat liked the most. His voice had already given him away. That and the fact that if it were the Joker who had found her, he would have done something more… _creative_ to get her attention. Something 'funny,' according to him. Funny to him and maybe slightly painful for her. The thought of it almost made her shudder.

"I ain't even doing anything bad and you still sneak up on me," she said, taking a step backwards. He was here to take her back to that dreadful place. Another step.

"You need to go back to Arkham asylum," he replied, completely ignoring her comment. His tone was low and serious, just like always.

"I hate that place! It's a… _dungeon_ ," she said honestly, trying her best not to make a face. On second thought, hell-hole would have been a better word to use. She wanted to keep stepping backwards but realized that if she kept going, she'd eventually end up in the lake. "I don't want to go back there."

"You are a fugitive of the law."

Harley sighed. If the Joker was never going to understand her, then neither would the bat. He was a cold, calculating bounty hunter. He didn't have friends and he didn't need them. He never needed anything.

But Harley needed so much. Hugs and comfort. Security. Affection. Things she never had with her parents. Things she wouldn't get at Arkham. Things she would never get with the Joker.

"Don't make me use force," the bat said after a moment, clearly growing impatient. He had yet to move a muscle but his tone was all Harley needed to grow anxious. A fight now, without the help of anyone else, might end badly. That could be a reason of why he wanted to leave already. Perhaps he was fearful that other villains were hanging around and might make this more difficult for him. Or maybe he was just bored and really wanted to be somewhere else. He was a hero and she was a villain. Catching her was his job, and even so she wasn't worth his time.

No one cared.

With a groan, Harley slowly walked forwards and extended her hands out to him, the wrists facing up. She almost wished the Joker would rescue her from the Batman. The idea, although slightly hopeful, is something she pushed from her mind as quickly as she could. She didn't want anything to do with the clown anymore. She left for a reason.

"Can't you let it slide, Batface? I'm not doing anything wrong. And I don't plan on doing anything bad ever again," she pleaded, looking up to meet his dark eyes. "Promise."

It was a long shot. Getting him to believe her would be practically impossible, but she had to try. She absolutely abhorred being a patient at Arkham Asylum. Maybe the bat would believe her when she said she was done for good this time. Maybe he would hear the sincerity in her voice.

The only response she gets to her words is a sharp pain on the wrists. The cold metal digs into her skin as he slaps the handcuffs on her. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. There's no way in hell she's giving him the satisfaction.

She was going back. Considering her options, even this was better than going back to the clown. But it didn't make her feel a _whole_ lot better. She chose this life, so complaining was useless. She was a villain now, and villains didn't get happy endings.

She had to stop being so hopeful.

* * *

 **Please leave me a review or PM me to let me know what you guys think. As of now I have two and half chapters of this "story," and I'm all up for writing more whenever my schedule allows me to. If not, I think this chapter sort of serves as a nice stand-alone (kind of). Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there! Thanks so much for the input that's been coming in for this story. I've had way more PMs than reviews, and that's totally fine with me. As long as I know there's someone interested :p I have a small idea about where I want to go with this story and a few of the incoming ideas have really helped, so thank you. This is the only other chapter I had pre-written. After this, I have to finish the third and then start new, so it's still up in the air about what I end up doing.**

 **Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

The car ride was uncomfortably quiet as they made their way to Arkham Asylum. How could it not be uncomfortable? She was sitting in the backseat of his fancy, gadget-filled car with her arms cuffed behind her back and her legs tied together. Unless something impossibly crazy happened, there was no way she was getting out of this.

Shifting as best as she could, Harley placed her weight on her back and avoided any pressure on her wrists. For a moment she was worried that the cuffs would break her charm bracelet, something she wore at all times. It had a few items that held plenty of sentimental value, mostly tiny reminders of her parents. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything in the shape of a key or anything that could be used to pick the lock on the handcuffs.

And to make things worse, she was finding out that the bat wasn't much of a talker.

She tried a few times, not because she was truly interested in holding a conversation with him, but simply to fill the awkward silence with something. She hated these kinds of situations. But his response to her comments and questions was always the same: Cold silence.

Harley frowned and puffed her cheeks to let out a slow breath of air. This was getting irritating. Was he going to pretend she wasn't there the entire time and then just dump her on the front doors of the asylum? Like dropping off a rabid dog at the pound? Just cleaning the streets of danger and taking them so they could be put down. Except they weren't going to put Harley down. They were going to keep her alive and locked up.

"You two are the same," she muttered, wishing her legs weren't bound together so that she could stomp one of them in frustration.

There was a slight movement as he turned his head to look at the rearview mirror. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, but it was all Harley needed to see the slight confusion in them.

"Who is the same?" he asked slowly.

"You and the Joker," she said firmly, frowning again.

"Why do you say that?"

She resisted every urge to spit _, "You both ignore me."_ Instead, she managed to mutter, almost indifferently, a calm, "You just are."

The bat was quiet for a moment. "I fail to see how."

"Neither of you care."

"Care about what?"

 _Me._

"Care about what you do. To both of you, doing what you do is what you guys are good at. You catch bad people and he does bad things. There's no reason for it other than the fact you both enjoy the game as much as the other."

"Is that what you think?"

Harley pushed herself back against the leather seat and sighed. "It's what I know," she said quietly, finished with her outburst. "Neither of you _care_. It's just a routine now. You're completely the same."

Again, silence fell between them with the only other noise being the soft purr of the engine. She didn't mind it this time. She was more mad at herself that her anger towards the bat had led to a conversation about the Joker. Avoiding the clown completely was going to be more difficult than she thought. He came up in everything.

"Maybe you're right," the bat said quietly. If Harley hadn't been absolutely silent, she probably wouldn't even have heard it.

Huh.

Maybe she was right? Did that mean she won? But what did she win? Was this even an argument? The bat said she was right. She _did_ win.

So why didn't it feel like a victory?

* * *

Arkham Asylum looked just as lifeless and nauseating as always. Its thick gray walls might have been breached several times by risky escapes and daring rescues, but you couldn't tell that by looking at them. Two feet thick and seventeen feet high, the outer walls surrounded the entire facility with false pride and daunting authority.

The gate doors that were kept chained and bolted swung open as soon as they saw the bat approaching in his car. No one ever questioned his actions or his motives. He was there for business and the asylum had learned to let him roam free. Why get on his bad side when he was the main reason most of the inmates found their way back to the treatment center?

As soon as the door to the car opened, the bat pulled her out of the car by the cuffs and untied her leg restraints. He led her inside, hardly looking at anything that wasn't straight ahead of him. She stumbled along numbly, refusing to say anything or even look at him. They walked in silence to the room where they did the routine searches, ridding the new or returning patients of any weapons.

"We'll take it from here, Batman," announced a young doctor she'd never seen before. The bat handed her over and suddenly the pressure of handcuffs around her wrists is gone. She brought them around and rubbed the tender skin slowly, wondering if the swollen flesh was going to bruise.

A quick search revealed she has nothing of importance. She already knew that, as she had been adamant on leaving everything behind when she stormed out of the clown's hideout. Therefore, it was a huge surprise when the doctor asked for her to remove her charm bracelet.

"Why? I never take this off."

"I'm sorry, but we need to remove it to make sure it isn't used as a weapon."

Harley shook her head, refusing to hand her bracelet over. Every charm on it was small and harmless, every edge rounded off by coincidence. It wasn't bulky or sharp and she would never use it on anything or anyone. The only plan she had for that bracelet was keeping it close at all times.

"The other doctors always let me keep it," she argued, pulling her wrist up to her chest and covering it with her other hand in an effort to protect it.

The rest of the doctors at the asylum had allowed her to carry the bracelet around, knowing how much it meant to her. The official report from her patient file said, "Emotional attachment is too great. Removing it from her possession could result in a violent outbreak that might see herself and/or others harmed."

This was what one of the previous doctors had written. No doubt it could be very true, but the reason it was written was to ensure it was never taken from her. The one who wrote it was a doctor who had started at almost the same time Harley had gotten her job at Arkham. She had been on good terms with him and a few others until the day she escaped. On her return to the asylum, this time as a patient, the doctor had done her a favor and let her keep it. Patient or not, she was once one of them. She might have deviated a bit into a more…extreme lifestyle, but there was no reason to see each other as enemies. Some of them might even go as far as consider her a friend while she worked there.

That is, until she threw it all away for a psychopath.

This doctor, however, was new. He didn't care about an old evaluation. He didn't know her and didn't feel the need to do her any favors.

"I'll have to take it up with my superiors," he stated indifferently. "If they say it's alright, you can have it back. Until then," the doctor trailed off, holding out his hand.

With a small sigh and an urge to cry and break the man's neck, Harley slowly removed the bracelet and placed it in the man's chubby hand. But not before planting a small kiss to the charms first.

The man took her bracelet and shoved it into a box that looked like the lunchbox she had as a kid. The difference now was that instead of looking at the little metal box in joy and curiosity about what Mom might have packed for lunch, she was staring at it with a bitter hatred. She watched with a frown as the man closed the lid and locked it with a key, slipping it into his front shirt pocket when he was finished.

"I promise that if my superiors say it's alright, I'll get someone to give it back to y-hey!'"

The lights in the room had gone out, leaving it in complete darkness. It was so dark that Harley couldn't see the doctor in front of her only four feet away.

Just as suddenly as they had gone out, the lights shot back on and drew a groan from everyone in the room. They all reached up to cover their eyes with their forearms until their eyesight readjusted.

Harley was expecting to see the Joker there. Or at least one of his henchmen. Someone who was there to help her escape.

But there was nothing different. Everything was just as it was before the lights went out. Those few seconds of darkness were simply the result of a malfunctioning electricity generator.

He wasn't here to save her. There wasn't a single noise outside that hinted to an escape mission. No bombs going off or people screaming as inmates ran like hell and the doctors, as well as security, ran around trying to subdue everyone.

So who was she kidding? She had to remember that the Joker didn't care about her.

A familiar smell that she couldn't quite place reached her nose on the next intake of air. She'd smelled it before, she was absolutely sure of it, and it definitely wasn't a smell that belonged there, but pretty soon she gave up on trying to identify it. All she knew was that it wasn't the smell of laughing gas or dynamite. Nothing that could help her now.

"That was strange," smiled the doctor, shaking his head in slight disbelief. "We'll have to get that checked out. But first, let's get you out of here so you can rest!" he said cheerfully with a single clap of his hands.

Harley almost wanted to laugh in pity for the doctor. He's new. He's happy. He also has no idea how this place will suck the liveliness out of someone, no matter whether you're a doctor or a patient.

The guard that picked her up was a tall man with a large scruffy beard that looked like it hadn't been shaved in years. He looked at her up and down a few too many times but Harley decided to brush it off. She only stared back at him with a blank expression as he gave her a wink and blew a kiss. Her bracelet had just been taken from her and she was in no mood to add more reasons to be angry.

If the Joker himself hadn't used her body, who in the hell did this chump think he was?

Not that the Joker had a lack of time for attempts to convince her. It simply wasn't in his areas of interest. He wasn't human. His only desire was to cause pain and misery. Pleasure was nowhere in that equation, unless it came from watching someone squirm in anguish from being tortured.

Let this guard try something and she'd prove to everyone why she could end up in a place like this _for real_. They wanted deranged and volatile? That's _exactly_ what she'd give them.

Harley watched in loathing as the doctor walked in the opposite direction, metal box in hand. He better hope that bracelet came back to her just as it was when she handed it over. If even a single charm came back damaged…she'd do things that would send her straight to the electric chair.

The walk to her old cell was familiar, despite all the weeks she spent away on this most recent escape. These halls had been engraved into her memory and the way to her cell was simply routine. When she got there, Harley was surprised to see the other cot empty.

"Cellmate's not here," said the guard. He lifted his hand to point a finger at the metal bars that covered the window near the ceiling. "Hung herself from those last week."

Harley watched as the wicked grin spread over the guard's face. So similar to the clown, taking joy out of the thought of other people's suffering. Or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe he was just telling her in an attempt to scare her. But the news didn't phase Harley. Her cellmate had hung herself from the bars using a bedsheet? Unoriginal. She was the third one. The news from the first one had been bad but it got easier the second time. Now Harley didn't really care.

"You'll get a new friend tomorrow," he said with a laugh, closing the door to the cell once she was inside. "Or whenever it is that they catch another _freak_." He used his baton to bang the bars a few times as he walked away, leaving Harley to the dark familiarity of her cell.

Her cot was the same as always, stiff as a rock but better than the floor. The musty smell was as present as ever, but Harley ignored it as she rubbed her eyes and laid down. A heavy sigh was all she could manage at the moment.

Great. Despite her best efforts, she was back in one of the worst places on the planet. She couldn't believe how happy she had been when she got the job here. What was she thinking? Maybe in a different life, things could have been different.

The feeling of her wrist without her bracelet makes her feel oddly exposed. Almost naked. She can't remember the last time she took it off. Who cares if the cuffs the bat put on her were going to make her wrists bruise? It was nothing compared to the feeling of losing her most prized possession. The charms that represented her childhood and her memories of happier times. Of her parents.

Harley brushed a few stray tears she didn't know had been welling up. There was no use in crying. The doctor said he'd give it back, right? Why wouldn't his 'superiors' allow her to have it? It was just a harmless bracelet.

It was coming back to her. It _had_ to be.

She was about to get comfortable for the night when a feeling in her stomach caused her to freeze completely. A feeling of dread was slowly creeping into her, making chills run up her spine.

Someone was watching her.

The question of how she was going to defend herself raced against the notion that maybe she's in more danger than she can handle. The guard was back to try something funny with her. And he probably had a weapon or two on him.

Her eyes scan the entrance and find nothing, making her frown in confusion. She almost thinks she's being ridiculous in her paranoia when she decides to search in the shadows of the other half of the room, just to make sure.

To her surprise, it's the bat that takes a step closer so that she can take a better look at him. She was sitting on her cot now and looking up at his tall frame with wide eyes. Harley wasn't sure what to do. Against her better judgment, she decides to stay completely still and not say anything until he does something first. He wouldn't hurt her, right? If he wanted to do that, he wouldn't have brought her here. Or he would have hurt her at the park or in his car when no one else was around.

After another step forward, the bat lifted his hand slowly with his fist out, leaving it out in the air in front of her.

What the hell did he want? The Batman came all the way to her cell…for a fist bump?

The sudden realization of what he was doing made Harley mentally kick herself. Careful not to make any sudden movements, she reached out slowly and placed her hand directly underneath his. The huge gloved hand opened slightly to drop a thin object into her open palm. It didn't take her long to figure out that it was her bracelet.

Unsure of what to say, Harley again remained quiet and only looked back up at him. She hated that her vision was blurring with the tears that were welling up. Made it harder for her to see him. The confusion was also growing inside her again, questioning everything. She doesn't like the fact that her enemy is pulling strings to do her a favor, but her joy for having her bracelet back seems to take over. She'd like to thank him and hug him and question why he did it but instead she remained silent.

Thankfully, the bat didn't seem to be waiting for any sign of gratitude and turned to leave. As his cape dragged along behind him, Harley got a momentary waft of his scent, something that smelled of leather and metal mixed with what she guessed to be a man's cologne.

It was the same smell that was in the room when the lights went out.

The bat walked over to the cell door and nonchalantly pulled a key out of his pocket to open it. Just as he was about to walk out, he turned his head slightly in her direction. Not enough to look at her or to see that she hadn't stopped staring at him, but just enough to make himself be heard.

"We're not the same."

Harley swallowed to clear her throat. "W-what?" she stammered.

"The Joker and I. We're not the same."

She glanced down to put her bracelet back on and when she shifted her eyes back up, the cell door was already closed and the bat was standing on the other side, still visible through the bars.

"At least not entirely," he muttered.

With that, along with another flap of his cape, he disappeared into the shadows once more.

* * *

 **Feel free to leave a review or PM me again. I love both. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**As always, I hope you guys like this chapter.**

* * *

Days at Arkham Asylum are insanely long.

Hmm. _Insanely_. What a misused word.

It was used to describe most of the people in this loony bin. _Insane_. For the most part, that description was wrong. A majority of the patients in the asylum weren't actually insane. Their thought processes simply weren't the same as someone who was considered "normal." Since there was no other place to take them, they were brought here so that self-entitled doctors with a sense of duty and righteousness could "cure" them.

Had she really been one of those people?

The few that actually were clinically insane were kept in a separate area of the asylum. It was done so that they could not "contaminate and infect" the rest of the patients. The common lot that always escaped but were captured by the bat every single time were free to roam around. They were Arkham-worthy but not bad enough to cage up in isolation.

Harley was among the group allowed to just be. And no one here messed with her much because they knew who she was close to, and what that creepy clown could do when angered.

Time seemed to drag on, whether it was in her cell or out in the yard with other patients. Days and nights of doing the exact same thing got tiresome really fast. She had to find a way to break out…

But she wouldn't.

She _wanted_ to be here. She had to keep telling herself that. It was the only way to do things the right way. Breaking out would simply cause more problems. The police, and most likely the bat, would look for her so she could be brought back and put into a cell until she escaped again. It was a never ending cycle that seemed almost as bad as the daily routine inside Arkham.

If she cooperated and showed a resolve to want to "get better" from whatever disorder she was showing, maybe they'd let her go on good terms and she could focus on leaving Gotham forever. Maybe start a new life somewhere else.

The bat stopped by very frequently. She had been there for two weeks and had seen him almost ten times. Always from afar, never actually close enough to say something to him. He always entered hauling someone else by the cuffs, bringing him or her in. Sometimes it was a familiar face, the Penguin or the Riddler having been outsmarted or, judging by bruises, out-fought, but sometimes it was someone entirely new.

She wondered what his other life consisted of. Many times Harley had sworn he was nothing more than a bat, but surely that wasn't true. He had to be _someone_. He had to have a life away from the mask, a hidden identity that had responsibilities somewhere.

Then again, was it a must? The clown didn't have another life. All he did was cause mayhem and destruction. No one missed him out in the real world. Maybe the bat wasn't exactly like the Joker, but they had to have a few similarities, didn't they?

And maybe one day Harley would be able to complete a thought process without thinking about the clown at all.

Sighing deeply, Harley looked down at her bracelet, softly touching the small charms. After all those days, she still couldn't figure out why the bat had returned it to her. What was the point? To prove to her that he wasn't the same as the Joker? Was that it? It wasn't likely, as the bat didn't seem like the kind to do things out of pride. If that were the case, the clown would probably be dead. There were way too many times that she could recall where Joker insulted the bat's character and said he didn't have the guts to just kill him. If the bat were a man of pride, the constant taunting would have pushed him to do something reckless and throw the clown off Gotham Bay Bridge or something.

The only other thing she could think of was that he had heard her conversation with the doctor. He had to have seen how truly desperate Harley was to keep the bracelet. Maybe he had done it…just to be good.

Was it that easy? Do something to help someone just because you could? If only she could really wrap her head around that, maybe a life after Arkham Asylum wouldn't be so difficult.

"Miss Quinn?" came a small voice from behind her.

Harley turned around to see a young woman, probably one of the high school volunteers that came to help out during the day. She looked timid and small, perfect for one of these psychos to take advantage of. Just like what had happened to her.

"Yea?"

"You have been asked to report to one of the counseling rooms upstairs," she replied, always with her eyes on the floor, as if afraid to make Harley mad.

A counseling room? Now? She didn't remember having been asked to do that before.

"For what?" she frowned, standing up from the bench she was sitting on.

"I was not told. I was simply instructed to inform you. Do you know the way?"

Harley shook her head. "I've never been there before."

"I'll lead the way," said the young woman quickly, turning around and heading off towards one of the halls.

Harley took a few big steps to catch up but kept up the rest of the way with relative ease. They left the yard and walked through the halls, ignoring the occasional shout from one of the patients. Not all of them were mentally stable, but the ones who were had no trouble being obnoxious in blowing them kisses and whistling at them.

The young girl guiding Harley seemed completely unaffected, walking swiftly to their destination, but Harley wasn't so calm. On one occasion she had to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress the urge to go after a man they passed. He was making motions with his tongue that were quite vulgar. She wanted him to watch as she stepped on his tongue after she cut it out of his mouth.

After a few more halls and a flight of stairs, Harley found herself in a part of the asylum she had never been to before. She tried not to look around like a curious child, instead trying to figure out what she was doing there. The girl pointed to a door where a guard stood outside, hands linked together in front of him like he was a bouncer at a club.

Harley stepped forward cautiously, not exactly sure what to do next. When she was close enough, the guard motioned with a quick jerk of his chin for her to walk through the door. She did so hesitantly, turning the knob slowly before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The brightly lit room had a single table inside, a chair neatly tucked underneath. The only other thing in the room drew all attention, the tall mound of dark colors contrasting with everything bright in the room.

"Sit," instructed the bat, pulling the chair out for her.

The guard closed the door behind her, leaving a very confused Harley all alone with the Batman. She stumbled forward, sitting at the table and looking up towards the bat, watching as he walked around to the other side so that he was directly opposite of her.

For a while he just stood there, quiet and still, almost like a statue. It became obvious fairly quickly that the bat meant to drag this out as long as possible, whatever it was he was doing. He simply looked at her, not making even the slightest of sounds. Harley sat there awkwardly and waited for him to say something, but he seemed to be too busy studying her. It made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn't explain. He wasn't staring at her lips, or her chest, or in any way that would make her feel that way. Instead, no matter where she was looking, she could tell he was staring right at her eyes.

Harley, on the other hand, couldn't keep the eye contact. The intensity was too much. She had never been in a room so close to the bat where neither of them are moving around fighting or running, and that was also usually in a dimly-lit warehouse or an alley. Now that she had time and light, she was seeing what the Batman _really_ looked like.

He was tall and had broad shoulders, something that made her think he was actually as tall as he seemed. So many among the more troublesome circles had claimed he was smaller than the suit made him. There were probably stilts in his suit just to make him taller and more intimidating. But Harley could see now that it wasn't the case. Without the suit, he'd be just as menacing to the rest of the world. Although perhaps not quite so resourceful without his fancy gadgets.

The shiny gold belt that hung at his waist was one of the most interesting things she had ever seen. From afar it looked like completely normal , but up close Harley could see the amount of things that the belt comprised of. There were so many buttons on that thing that she started to wonder how he didn't accidently press on all of them when he was fighting.

The rest of the suit looked like his skin was just spray-painted black. There were muscles and tendons moulded into the suit's exterior to give it shape. Was he just as muscular under the suit or was it all for show? Well, if she could vouch for one thing, it was that, muscles or not, the bat could deliver a pretty heavy punch, courtesy of his huge, gloved hands.

The exposed half of his face showed a strong jawline and not a trace of facial hair. Either he didn't grow any at all, he was picky about hygiene, or he had to keep it shaved off for some other reason. Probably a day job. Or maybe not. It was like four in the afternoon. Shouldn't he be at his day job if he had one?

Instead, the bat was here. Not moving or saying anything. His lips stayed in that signature bat expression. Completely void of any emotion. And his eyes? Yup, still locked on hers.

"You gonna say something, bats?" she asked finally, unable to bear the silence any longer. It was honestly starting to hurt her ears.

"Where is the Joker hiding?" he demanded, not missing a single beat. It's almost as if they had been talking the whole time and they were simply changing topics.

Harley rolled her eyes and yawned. "Come on, B-man. I was expecting this date to be _fun_. You're turning it sour so early."

The bat stayed silent until she groaned. She was really hoping this was something serious, but it turned out she was only brought here to talk about the clown. How lucky.

"I don't know where he is," she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "And I don't care."

"You don't care?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Don't care."

"Explain."

"Explain what?"

"Why is it that you don't care?" he asked, eyeing her carefully. Probably didn't believe her. Well, she definitely expected it. Not like it bothered her, though.

"I wanted a break, ya know? From _everything_. I wanted to get away from here and see new things. Maybe, I don't know," she shrugged, "Maybe move somewhere else and never come back." Harley sighed and glanced down at the table. "But Joker's obsessed with destroying Gotham and doesn't want to leave. Says he has so much in store for the people here and didn't want to leave the Batman without anything to do. So I told him he could choose between me and the bat, and you wanna know what he said? The idiot told me I could leave whenever I finished packing my stuff. Can you believe that guy? After everything I've done for him!"

Harley intertwined her fingers and placed them carefully on the table, trying her hardest to calm down. Her breathing was ragged and her blood was starting to boil. Why was she having this conversation with the bat? _He_ was the reason the Joker didn't want to leave Gotham.

"I left right after that. I needed some fresh air but all I found was a one way ticket back to this place," she huffed.

"Were you coming from his hideout?" he questioned, still looking at her.

"No, just an abandoned warehouse we were spending the night in until he got a hold of some people. They were gonna bring him a few things he needed."

The bat stood to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest as a slow breath of air left his slightly-parted lips. She got a whiff of mint and coffee.

"What kinds of things?" he asked.

Harley gave a quick shrug. "Dynamite. Acid. The usual."

"Acid. Drug or weapon?"

"Uhh…both, actually."

"These people he was going to meet with. The ones who would bring him these things. You know who they are?"

Harley thought about it for a moment. "I don't know their names but I know what they look like. Joker does business with them every once in awhile."

"Describe them to me," the bat said quietly.

Harley paused, unsure of what to do. It would be all too easy to lie to him. He was obviously desperate for answers if he hadn't found anything out in the two weeks since he brought her to Arkham. He had no clues. Or maybe he did, he just wanted to know if she would tell him the truth or not. Maybe he was testing her.

The short silence was broken by his voice, his piercing blue eyes still boring holes into hers.

"If you cooperate, I'll make sure you get out of here."

She looked up to meet his gaze, nearly frozen in shock. "W-what did you say?" she stammered.

"I can get you out. The _right_ way. Not a fugitive, not an outlaw. And when you get out of here, if you still want to leave Gotham, I can get you a new identity. No better way to start a life in a new city than with a new identity."

Harley's heart pounded harder with every word he said. If it didn't beat right out of her chest, she was sure it was going to explode.

This was the answer to all of her problems. It's what she wanted more than anything. And now the bat was offering her a chance to get out of here free of all prosecution and with everything she needed to start a new life away from Gotham.

Scooting up in her chair, Harley straightened her posture and took a deep breath. 'Okay,' she told herself slowly, meeting the bat's eyes one more time.

"What else do you want to know?"

* * *

 **Thank you soooo much to everyone who's taken the time to read this story. I honestly didn't think it would draw that much attention to get favorites and such, but here we are. I'm kind of juggling a few stories at the moment so the updates will be days apart, but I promise I won't take so long. This is the last chapter I had prewritten, so from here on out, we go from scratch. Not really sure what I'm going to do, but I have a few ideas.**

 **Leave me a review or shoot me a PM if you'd like. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello there lovelies! It's been so flattering to see so much attention on my story. I see other stories on here that are just so perfect and it's crazy to think that some of you guys that read those stories are taking the time to read mine as well. Never really gotten so many favs and follows for something I've written so even though it's not that big a deal, it's a pretty big deal for me. :p Anyways, as always, I hope you guys like this chapter.**

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the bat visited Harley so that she could spill the secrets of crime. The ones she knew, anyway.

Their sessions took place in the same room and never lasted longer than an hour. The bat, however, didn't waste a single second. Anything that was brought up had to be described in perfect detail. What was the person wearing? Did he/she have any scars that were visible? Any distinct accent or lisp? How about height and approximate weight?

What the hell did she know?

It was rather frustrating when the bat demanded more than she knew, pushing her to think back and remember specifics she no longer recalled. She only remembered so much, especially because she didn't know she would one day be relaying back information.

Whenever he wanted her to give details about something she honestly didn't remember, she always shot a, "I don't remember! What, you want me to lie to you and make somethin' up?"

That _always_ got him to shut up.

After a few sessions, the bat gave her a tiny black notebook, small in size but with plenty of pages. Harley would write in it whenever she thought of something, that way she'd have a list full of topics to discuss with the bat on his next visit. She'd always have a few more secrets to reveal.

The purpose of it was actually to make sure she was as detailed as possible. Sometimes, when put on the spot, Harley couldn't really remember the full details, but laying in bed in her cell at night would sometimes be helpful with remembering. Every random memory was recorded on paper to make sure she didn't forget again.

Harley never expected him to check up on absolutely _everything_ she said. Well, she did and she didn't. Batman was just…Batman. He had no other life to live. He had a small black recording device that taped every word they exchanged in these sessions. With nothing else to do, he probably checked up on her leads the instant he left the asylum.

Well, Harley soon found out that it was _exactly_ what the bat did as soon as he left. He verified every single word that came out of her mouth. One day, on a routine visit, she entered the room to find the bat with his back to the table, facing away from her. It was a change that instantly let her know something was wrong. There was also tension in the air that made the hair on the back of her head stand up.

As soon as she sat down, the bat whirled around and slammed his fists on the table, startling Harley right out of her chair. She got up off the floor quickly, looking up to see a very angry bat. His mouth was the same but his skin color was slightly redder and his breathing a little more shallow than normal.

"You _lied_ to me," he said in a low voice. It almost made Harley shiver. Somehow, nearly whispering those words was worse than if he would have yelled them. Their sessions had been going on for some time now and she had gotten to a level of comfortability with the bat. Not that they sat over coffee and had delightful conversations, but she never had a reason to be anything other than relaxed whenever they met. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be scared of him.

"I-I haven't lied about anything."

He was silent as he tried to regain his composure, backing up from the table with a few steps. "Yes, you have."

"I have not!" she spat, frowning at his accusations as the fear slowly turned to anger. She wasn't doing this stupid notebook writing and playing these memory games for no reason.

"It's my fault," he said gruffly, glancing at a corner of the room.

"What's your fault?"

"I shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't have-"

"Shouldn't have what? Trusted me? Why? Because a criminal can't be trusted?"

"I thought we had an understanding. I can't help you get out of Gotham if you lie to-"

"I want to get out of here!" she screamed, standing up and nearly jumping on the table. "You have no idea what it's like to be here all the time without knowing when you'll be out! At least before I had the hope that I'd be rescued! Now I don't even have that. I don't have…anyone."

She paused to take a few deep breaths and make sure she wasn't about to start crying. She had that familiar knot in her throat already. The reality of her situation wasn't as bad as when she spoke it out loud. Somehow it made it just a little more true.

"I already told you I wanna do this the right way, bats. Please…don't…" she trailed off and swallowed. "Don't take that away from me."

The bat studied her for a moment as he relaxed. At Harley's outburst, he had backed up and placed one hand on his belt, ready to act in case she grew violent.

"Please," Harley whispered, not caring anymore that the tears were spilling. She couldn't go back to not hoping. This was all she had now. He said he'd get her out and that's exactly why she was trying. She had to make sure the bat kept up with his side of the bargain because holy crap was she trying hard to keep hers. Harley wiped off the tears and sat back down, looking up at him. "I haven't lied," she said softly.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, just as quietly as she had done.

"There was a…discrepancy in the information you provided and the facts I uncovered."

"Discrepancy?"

"A discrepancy is when two things-"

"I know what a discrepancy is, batface!" she yelled, wiping the remaining tears from her face. There was no need to seem vulnerable when he was _insulting_ her.

What a jerk.

"Tell me what the discrepancy is. Maybe you're wrong."

"I'm never wrong," he said with that fake composure she knew masked his anger. She'd struck a nerve. Good.

"Tell me what is was, bats," she pressed.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, probably reaching to whatever God he believed in and trying to figure out why he was double-checking his intel with her. Must be humiliating for the Batman to have to run his facts with a criminal. The thought of that made Harley smile inwardly.

"The mob isn't controlled by the Lombardi."

Harley blinked. "Uh, yea it is."

"Negative."

"Positive," she mocked in a low voice, frowning a bit to mirror his serious expression. She knew he wasn't in the playful mood but she didn't care. He had seen her practically beg to keep her bracelet and had just now seen her cry. Time for her to have some fun.

"This isn't funny, Quinn. There's movement in the city and it might lead to trouble. The mob is adjusting their pieces on the chess board and I need to find out why."

"Then track the Lombardi. One of them will eventually go someplace that will help you out."

"They don't have control."

Harley frowned, looking down at the table. "Unless they changed, but I find it hard to believe that someone kicked their narcissistic butts off the throne."

"I haven't heard about a power shift," the bat said slowly, almost as if he were speaking to himself now.

"Me neither," said Harley, shaking her head.

"And yet I come to find out the mob is headed by the O'Connor family."

Harley looked up at him carefully, waiting to see if there was a hint of humor in his eyes. When she saw that there was none and that he was being absolutely serious, she burst out laughing.

"Are you serious?" she laughed, enjoying the way his confused expression slowly turned to anger.

The bat stood still as he watched her shift in her chair from laughing so hard. His tone, which was back to being serious, displayed a bit more of the annoyed anger she had sensed before.

"Do I _look_ like I'm playing?" he practically growled.

"So much for the world's greatest detective," she said, immediately sobering when she saw the look that came over his face. The flame in his eyes made her reconsider her attitude. Maybe an angry bat _wasn't_ the best idea. "Uhh, well, the O'Connor family has the Irish mob, bats. Not the Italian mob."

"The Irish mob?"

"There's more than one mob, ya know."

"The Irish mob has influence in Metropolis. Not Gotham."

Harley sat up in her chair again and cleared her throat. "They came in a few months ago and kept all of their dealings on the hush-hush. Apparently quiet enough not to be spotted by the mighty Batman. But anyways, they moved in and started fighting for land right away."

"So Antonio Lombardi has the Italian mob…"

"And Seamus O'Connor has the Irish mob."

The bat stayed silent as he thought about what that meant. When a thought seemed to strike him, he met her gaze again, but Harley could still see the gears turning in his head.

"You said the Lombardi were trading cocaine for guns and ammunition."

"Yup. They've been doing that forever."

"But it was Seamus O'Connor who met with Grant in a club last night in downtown Gotham."

Harley frowned as she joined the bat in trying to figure out what that meant. Tyler Grant had access to all of the best weapons, but he was untouchable. Diplomatic Immunity and a few other things kept the feds from ever getting too close. He'd made a deal with the Italians long ago that seemed like it would go on forever.

"That doesn't make sense," she thought out loud. "The Italians need the guns to run their section of the city. They have their empire stretched all over Gotham and parts of Metropolis. I think Antonio Lombardi's brother has some reach in Manhattan, too."

A sudden memory spiked up in Harley's mind and she stood up quickly, reaching into the shallow pocket of her patient uniform. Pulling out the little black notebook the bat had given her, she flipped through the pages frantically until she reached the place she was looking for. It was a page that held information she hadn't gotten to yet. She looked over it quickly before turning to face him again.

"The Chinese have been trying to get in on the deal. They want access to the drugs and they've been trying to get Antonio's attention for a long time. Even cleaned up a few messes for him here and there to try and fall into his favor."

The bat crossed his arms over his chest. "What did they offer him?"

Harley shook her head. "I don't know. But whatever it was must have happened recently, and it was big enough to make him drop the deal with Grant. So now I guess Grant has to try and deal with the Irish so that he still has business and the Chinese are giving who-knows-what to PizzaTown in exchange for cocaine."

"You know," the bat said slowly, looking at her eyes. Always her eyes. "You might make a good cop one day. Maybe Metropolis Police Department?"

Harley almost laughed at the ridiculous comment. "Keep wishing, bats."

"And for the record," he said, "I don't always start off knowing everything. I _investigate_. That's how I learn what's going on around me. I'm not psychic."

She was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when she realized he was referring to her earlier quip about him being a lousy detective. He was _explaining_ himself. Trying to justify why he was so freakin' clueless about everything. Harley smiled but soon found herself frowning again.

"Keep your ears peeled, batface. That special something that the Chinese are giving the Italians has to be better than just guns. Otherwise they wouldn't have broken their deal with Grant. It has to be big enough to give them power over all three cities, so you might have your hands full. Make sure to cancel all of your dates and doctor's appointments."

"It's funny that there hasn't been any activity from the usual suspects."

"And there won't be any, bats. This has nothing to do with some of the bigger players in Gotham's crime log. This is just a good old-fashioned fight for territory among mortals. And it'll go down soon, whatever weapon they got."

That got him serious in the blink of an eye. "You think they're going to try something here?" he asked, but they both already knew the answer to that.

"Where else are they gonna test it if it ain't here in Gotham?"

The bat nodded, turning towards the door and making it in three long strides. He turned to look at her once more before opening it and heading out, but she heard his last four words right as he disappeared from sight.

"Not in _my_ city."

* * *

 **I've started this huge process of brainstorming on where I want this story to go. Nothing too solid yet, but I have a few things here and there that will hopefully push it along for another chapter or two before I decide. Feel free to leave me a review or (as some of you prefer due to privacy) send me a PM. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Heeey everyone! I'm terribly sorry this update took so long. Life is busy, and as you probably all know, the country's going through quite a bit right now as well...**

 **I don't get into politics much. Just kinda not my thing. But despite who you support, always make sure to care for one another. There's been violence from both sides and it pains me to see so much hate everywhere. That's all I want to say regarding that topic. Be kind to one another.**

 **Anyways, I struggled with this chapter for a little, but I hope you like it!**

* * *

The bat's next visit came late.

He skipped the usual day he came to see her and instead showed up two whole days later. You'd think something like that could go without a problem, but truthfully, Harley was left a bit worried. On their last meeting, the bat was going to look for something that the Italians had acquired, something that might be extremely dangerous. It went without saying that he would have to tread lightly while investigating what it was exactly. Moving in too fast might cause Antonio Lombardi to make a hasty decision and act sooner than planned. And improvised executions never went well.

Harley was out in the yard, slowly going over a few areas in her memory she was sure would sprout more information. It seemed she had scrubbed her brain completely. Any information she had, if it wasn't already in the bat's hands, it was in hers, safely tucked away between the pages of the notebook. It was almost full with tiny letters in black ink, the pages wrinkled from so much use. It honestly reminded her of when she was in school, cramming as many notes as she could from a lecture. She was always good at taking notes, and now was no different.

A volunteer, small and slightly scrawny with acne all over his face, approached her shyly and waited before she turned her attention to him. She hadn't seen the young woman who had spoken to her the first time, which was probably for the best. Maybe a job somewhere else would help keep that girl's innocence intact.

The boy quickly told her she was being summoned to the council room upstairs. A smile instantly crossed Harley's face, followed by a small frown. She wasn't sure if she was happy to resume the meetings or if she was just happy to get out of routine. It had to be the latter. No way she was exciting about seeing the bat. Especially if he was feeling moody that day.

She sped through the halls, zooming past everyone else that was moving too slow for her taste. Even though she knew she couldn't make it seem like she was desperate to get there, her step never faltered. When Harley finally made it to the tiny room, she practically burst through the door, glad to see that it was the bat who was indeed waiting for her and not someone else.

Okay, maybe she was _a little_ happy to see him.

He eyed her curiously from behind his mask, probably wondering why the hell she had come in so abruptly. Harley recovered quickly and carefully closed the door behind her, finding her seat while keeping her eyes down the entire time.

When her eyes rose to take in his form, she found herself…disappointed. She knew the bat would never tell her what his delay had been. Not that she cared or anything, but he was the one person she ever spoke to in extended conversations and she hated the fact that he never told her anything when she was doing the exact opposite. She was revealing _everything_.

Her hopes were falling on the possibility that she could see something different. Something that might tell her about where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Maybe if she could see his face, she would notice if he looked more tired than usual, or if he was injured. But nothing was out of the ordinary, and there wasn't even so much as a limp in his step to prove he was hurt.

The bat took a few steps forward and leaned on the table, putting all of his weight on his arms. He stayed there, silent like always and staring right into her eyes. Harley smiled inwardly at the imposing darkness of his size and suit, so oddly familiar now, but she did her best not to show it. After a few past experiences, she was no longer ready to provoke his anger. She had learned that as long as she couldn't see his face, there was no telling if he was in a good or bad mood. At least not right away. As the conversations went on, Harley could usually tell if he was calm or if he was being evasive. She wondered how many else could also say they had the bat semi-figured out.

"Welcome back, bats!" she said playfully, stretching her arms out as if presenting something above her. "I was _so_ worried. Thought you had finally gotten bored of our dates. Maybe moved on to the next lucky gal."

"I've been busy," he stated simply, glancing down to the floor quickly before locking eyes with her again.

Harley smiled visibly this time. The bat liked to break eye contact when he was relaxed. No need to keep your eye on your enemy when there wasn't a threat, right? On the other hand, whenever he was angry, or from what she remembered about the times he was in fight-mode, he rarely even blinked in an effort to stay alert. But he was calm right now. It meant there was no screaming sermon ahead.

"I bet," she replied slowly, closing her eyes and leaning in her chair. "Busy trying to chat up the other inmates?" Harley shook her head a few times in mock disapproval, sighing loudly. "And here I was, a fool. Only got eyes for you, puddin', and this is the thanks I get?"

"Thank you."

She opened her eyes and gave him a look. Definitely _not_ the response she was expecting.

"For what?"

Reaching into his cape, the bat pulled out a small metal piece and set it on the table, gently sliding it forward so that it sat directly in front of her. She picked it up carefully, noticing how heavy it was for its size but also how she had no idea what the hell it was. Its round shape reminded her of an ice cream cone, although this one didn't have a pointed edge. Instead, it ended in a flat side with a few colorful wires sticking out of it.

"What is it?" she asked finally when her attempts at identifying it failed.

"Part of a test bomb."

Harley let the strange piece of metal slip through her fingers as she threw it back at him, desperate to get it away. "You brought me a bomb?" she cried, her mouth hanging open.

"The bomb is completely disassembled now. I'm sure that with time, a new one can be built, but it'll be difficult to make it work without this," he said, holding it up for her to see one last time. He swiftly tucked it in his cape again, the piece nowhere in sight the next time his hands appeared.

Harley's eyes widened. "So that means you took it apart?"

A quick nod. "Using some of the information you gave me, I was able to trace the Lombardi's movements and found where they were keeping it. So again, thank you."

The smile that spread over Harley's face was completely out of her control. A sense of relief had washed over her, glad to know a bomb wasn't going off in Gotham anytime soon. And also, if the bat had yanked that part off and defused it himself, he had been lucky it hadn't exploded. She was inexplicably glad _he_ was safe as well. Now he could continue his bat activities and stop a bank robbery or help an old lady cross the street or something.

A bomb had been in the process of being prepared to go off someplace in Gotham. How many people had the bat saved by putting himself in danger and actually caring? How many kids would wake up and go to school and play with their friends and eat lunch, without ever finding out that they had been saved by the bat? The man who stayed in the shadows and never expected anything in return.

It was always a tragedy to hear someone innocent got hurt for no reason. That was probably the hardest thing she ever dealt with when hanging out with the Joker. He was always so ready to hurt the innocent, something she never looked forward to. It was fun to see how many things you could take from the jewelry store before you were caught. It was funny to deflate a few tires and scratch up the sides of a few cars with hearts and flowers. If someone got too offended and violent after seeing how she tagged a random building, beating him or her up was also a pretty fun thing to do.

Affecting random people and _killing_ them without any cause or reason? Definitely not a way to have a good time.

"Batface the Bomb Expert," she said teasingly, offering him a grin. "Saving entire city blocks one metal piece thingy at a time. Where did they even get that part?"

"That specific machine is produced by Wayne Industries."

Harley scoffed. "You better tell that rich pretty boy that he needs to stop making those things. Maybe he's too busy getting laid and drinking expensive champagne to care but his companies are making some dangerous stuff."

"That part was created for a different machine. It has a completely different use. The men who designed the bomb just so happened to consider this piece in their planning to make things simpler. But," he added, giving her a look. "I'll make sure Mr. Wayne gets your message."

"Such a gentleman," she said sarcastically, smiling when he didn't say anything. That's okay. He was just trying too hard not to smile. "Anyways, is that all you've been up to?"

The bat sighed. "I still have no leads on the Joker."

Harley's smile faded instantly. The clown was still nowhere to be found. Either it was really good, or it was really _really_ bad. And she wasn't about to start placing bets on the first option.

"Well," she said slowly, rubbing her hands together. "I've…told you everything I know about where to find him."

"I know," the bat said after a moment, another sigh escaping him.

Hmm.

He knew? Harley wasn't sure how to take that. Was she so easy to read or did he actually _trust_ that she had told him everything?

She was about to reply when a deafening explosion filled the air and shook the entire building. Harley cried out as she was shoved violently off her chair and onto the ground, the back of her head hitting something soft. It only took her a second to realize that the Batman had literally tackled her to the ground and had his hand between her head and the floor to minimize the impact. He was lying completely over her, his body shielding her from the huge chunks of concrete that were falling from the ceiling.

When the quake finally died down, Harley heard the screaming and wailing of hundreds of injured patients and staff members. She opened her eyes slowly to see the bat get up and shake off the dust and debris that fell on him while he was protecting her.

"Are you alright?" he yelled over the noise.

Even though the bat kept her head from hitting the ground so harshly, her vision was blurry and everything seemed to spin. There was a faint ringing in her ears that was slowly fading, and she knew she'd find a few cuts and bruises the next time she bathed. Looking at the bat, all she could manage was a weak nod of her head, but it's all he needed.

His dark form turned quickly towards the hole in the wall, which had replaced the door entirely. He seemed to scan the area around them, seeing how utterly exposed the asylum was now. Massive gaps in the walls and ceilings gave everything a more spacious feel. From where she was lying, Harley could see her cell but could also see the yard she was in when they first told her to report to the council room.

Harley was absolutely sure it was a breakout and was in the process of getting up and shaking herself off when she heard a bone-chilling sound. The instant it reached her ears, a cold shiver ran down her spine.

The clown's laugh.

Stepping around the cement blocks carefully, Harley reached the opening in the wall and looked down to see the Joker laughing maniacally as the Batman fought off a few of the hired henchmen. The goons were huge, but the bat was quicker than he looked and packed quite a punch. They got a few hits in before they were lying at the bat's feet, unconscious. As soon as it looked like the bat would be winning the fight, the clown lost interest and went back to finish what he really came for: releasing prisoners.

Harley watched in horror as he released old acquaintances and a few new faces she didn't recognize. Although they were new, she knew they were nowhere close to being random. They could each do something the Joker needed, which was why they had been chosen.

The clown knew the entire layout inside and out and showed no hesitation or confusion while moving around the crumbling facility. Not once did he turn to look at the corner of the wing that held Harley's cell, and why would he? There was no reason to rescue her. He had no _need_ for her, and that realization, no matter how many times she had previously told herself the same thing, brought a knot to Harley's throat.

After releasing the last prisoner, the clown shouted towards a few other men, signaling for their retreat. He was about to leave when he caught her staring, that room not exactly where he was expecting to find her. When he noticed that she was not in her cell and that she was also free from cuffs, he motioned for her to join him. The rest of his crew was already inside a black van with no license plate that sat idling right outside the asylum. There were three vans, full of henchmen and newly released prisoners, but they were all waiting on him.

"Let's go!" he shouted, motioning a bit rougher this time.

Harley's breath caught at a few painful memories that sprouted from seeing his anger. That's what it always was with him. Do as he says or be subject to his rage.

She turned to see the Batman on one knee, struggling to get up. All the goons scattered around him were out cold, but he hadn't won without a cost. Joker didn't go back to finish him because he knew the bat wasn't out for the count just yet. He still had enough fight in him for another tussle, but he was much too worn out now to follow them if they left that very instant.

"We're leaving," the Joker growled menacingly, the sinister, evil smile never leaving his face. When he saw that she didn't budge, he clenched his teeth and added, " _Now_."

Harley could almost feel his strong, vice grip on the back of her neck, squeezing until she begged for him to stop. Here, she was free from that. She was finally doing things the right way, on a path to a better life and hopefully one that was away from Gotham.

There was no way she was going back to a life with him. Even if it meant turning her back on those she had called "family" for so long.

She was done.

Shaking her head and feeling the tears run down her face, Harley turned in the opposite direction and ran out of the building through one of the many holes in the walls. She ran as fast as she could, leaving it all behind.

She ran from Arkham, the place that might make everything better, but she also ran away from the clown that would infinitely make it worse. No longer would he define her future.

The Joker would be forever in her past.

* * *

 **If you guys would like to help, leave me a review or send me a PM telling me what you liked or didn't like about this. Or of the story in general. It'll hopefully give me more ideas about what to do with it. Last chapter didn't really generate much response, and I hope I'm not boring you guys or anything. Do comic book fans just like more action and fight sequences? Maybe I should add more of those...lol**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy Monday! Well, not really, as Mondays in my opinion are anything but happy, but we can try to make them better, right?**

 **Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to review or send me a message. I've actually gotten some really good ideas about what I want to do, and there were also other ideas I decided to scratch completely after talking to a few people. It's made a huge difference and I couldn't be any more grateful.**

 **I hope you guys like this chapter. :)**

* * *

She was staring out into the water again. The sight of slow, consistent waves had a calming effect on Harley. Gotham Bay was an option, but there was always too much movement there and it raised the risks of her being spotted. So now she was here, back at her favorite pond. She leaned on the railing of the bridge casually, looking down into the deep, murky water.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of nature. It was late, the sun's golden orb having given its last farewell just a few minutes before. The tears on Harley's face had also been dry for some time, and now all that remained was the dreadful feeling of uncertainty.

What was she going to do?

Perhaps, before she could answer that, she had to find an answer for the past. _Recent_ past. As in, just a few hours ago. What did she _do_?

Harley walked out on it all. On everything and everyone. She was on an extended stay in Arkham Asylum, probably longer than she'd ever been there since she was a doctor, and she was on the path to straightening her life out. The bat was using what she knew to crack down on some criminals, and despite what she told herself during the day, she couldn't deny that she smiled sometimes right before she fell asleep. It felt strange to do something in order to help others. Strange but…nice. In exchange for the information, the bat was going to get her out of there and help her leave Gotham for good.

And yet all she had to do was lay eyes on the clown for it to all go to hell.

The moment she had stopped running out of pure exhaustion, she regretted her decision. What was she thinking? Why hadn't she just gone with him? He could take her away from the asylum, from the boring routine that dominated her life in that cage. No doubt some pretty big sticks of dynamite were used to make Arkham look like a hunk of swiss cheese, so he obviously had the means to keep her safe from the cops that were sure to follow them.

But fear had also crept in, slowly at first and then gushing out like a raging waterfall. She wasn't sure what the Joker was planning, but if he had gone to such measures just to free his partners in crime, then he most likely had something big in mind. What kind of mess would she be caught up in if she joined him one more time? With the clown, there was no telling, and Harley was tired of seeing blood spilled for no reason.

And if things couldn't be any worse, the fear she felt growing inside her only got bigger when she realized the Joker hadn't broken into Arkham to release her. She was no use to him anymore. Perhaps he was mad at her for running away and being caught, and leaving her there to suffer was punishment enough. But the paranoia also made her aware of another, more terrifying possibility: that somehow, the Joker had found out she was selling out secrets to the bat. He knew she was a _mole_ for his sworn enemy. What kind of tortures awaited her at the hands of the clown? She'd seen him do horrible, _sick_ things to people as he tortured them, proudly wearing a big, stupid grin the entire time.

An involuntary chill made Harley shudder. Probably her subconscious telling her how screwed she was no matter what she did. The breeze was slow and pleasant, unlike the furious trainwreck of emotions and thoughts that swarmed inside her head. Either she was very unlucky, or Harley was just _really good_ at messing up her life.

The last traces of light faded behind the distant horizon, casting shadows all around her. In the daytime, she might have been lucky to see the ducks swimming around with their young, a desire that still remained since the last time she was here.

Now, back to the original question: _What was she going to do?_

She had to leave Gotham. There was no question about it. A few people could probably testify that she hadn't left with the clown, but she had still escaped. Technically. And no doubt there would be people looking for her and all of the other patients from Arkham.

So she was trying to stay under the radar from both the police _and_ the Joker. No worries. Harley knew how he operated and how he'd try to find her, and all she had to do was make sure she didn't throw up any obvious red flags and she'd be okay. By the time he actually put some effort into finding her, she'd be long gone.

"You _really_ need to find a better place to hide."

Damn it.

Well, the bat was certainly the world's greatest detective. Maybe he was a little off sometimes but boy did he know how to redeem himself.

Harley didn't even bother trying to move. She stayed completely still, fighting a strange urge to smile. After all that crap that had just gone down, it was nice to have something familiar.

"Do you take pride in stalking, or am I just easy to find?"

"It's easy when you pick the same spot."

She heard him take a few steps and suddenly he was next to her, close to the railing but not exactly touching it. A quick sideways glance revealed that he was looking out in the water as well, seemingly relaxed. There were traces of blood on his lip and his dark suit had a few scuff marks, not to mention the dust all over his cape. The sight of it reminded her that he had thrown himself over her to shield her from the falling debris. It might have gotten him injured even before he fought off the clown's goons.

"You okay?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to give an impression that she cared. Normally she wouldn't, but he did kind of save her, so she owed him one.

"It'll heal," he answered gruffly, never peeling his eyes away from the water.

They both stayed silent for a short while, enjoying a moment of tranquility after one hell of an afternoon. She found it rather funny that they could be so at peace in each other's presence, having no real need for a conversation. Half a year back, all she could think about was how much she hated him for always ruining the clown's plans. Always spoiling the fun.

Is that what she thought it had been? Fun?

"Why didn't you go with him?" the bat asked her after a moment, almost hesitantly. She wondered if he'd been going over that question all afternoon just like her.

"I'm done," she said firmly, frowning at the memory of the clown's icy words still ringing in her mind.

 _We're leaving. Now._

Harley shook her head to suppress another shudder. "I don't wanna do it anymore."

The noise that escaped the bat's throat caused her to look at him, catching the faint traces of a smile on his lips. It was the closest she'd seen him to being anything besides serious or mad.

"What's so funny, batface?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he said quickly, back to his regular serious face. "I was just thinking that things would be easier if all criminals thought like you."

Criminal.

That's what she still was. Harley wanted to be mad him for labeling her a criminal, but she suddenly realized that it was the best thing she had been called in months. She remembered one day in the yard at Arkham, a doctor was giving the new volunteers a tour of the asylum.

" _They don't know what they're doing_ ," the woman had told the group of teenagers, finding absolutely nothing wrong with her words. " _Some of them don't even know they're sick. But they are, and we're here to cure them_."

The bat didn't think she was sick. He thought of her as a criminal, a person with fully functioning cognitive abilities and who knew what she was doing. She understood that what she was doing was wrong and did it anyways.

But not anymore.

"Geez, bats, after everything we've been through, I'm still a criminal to you."

"We're all criminals," he told her somberly.

That got her attention. "What do you mean?"

"We all do things we're not supposed to, and in the end, we end up paying for those mistakes."

Turning her full attention to him, the bat sighed and let another moment pass before he continued.

"The ones who will suffer the most are the ones who make those choices while fully aware that what they're doing is wrong. If you have no conscience, then you won't suffer. But there are some who are being eaten alive from the inside out."

Harley nodded, thinking about the bat's words. "We are," she sighed, leaning on the railing more heavily. "I'm paying for my mistakes, alright."

"And I'm paying for mine," he whispered.

She turned her head to look at him better, trying her hardest to make out his features. His voice was low, serious, almost bitter. Whatever mistake he was talking about seemed to have a profound effect on him. She didn't want to pry, but at the same time she didn't want to let it go. The bat helped everyone, protecting the city from harmful bombs and allowing himself to be pelted with huge cinder blocks just to keep a patient with an extensive criminal history safe. It was suddenly unfair to her that there was no one to help _him_.

Her staring went on for a second too long because eventually he caught her and turned his head slightly the opposite way, just enough to keep his face away from her. The blood rushed to her cheeks from embarrassment and she had no idea why. It's not like she was doing anything _wrong_. She was simply wondering how someone who was alone all the time could manage the huge weight of crime in Gotham. Of course, she wasn't sure he was alone, but if there was any possibility that he had another life somewhere else, he wouldn't be out at night wearing that suit so often.

She considered placing a hand on his arm. Maybe not for a long time but just barely. He might not even feel it with the armor he was wearing. And if he did, so what? Shouldn't he know that she understood what he was saying? Was physical touch a boundary she shouldn't cross? The bat told her he wasn't the same as the Joker. So maybe a small sign of support was what he needed. It's the least she could do before she left Gotham forever.

Harley took her arms off the railing and stood up straight, lifting up one hand. The bat still had his face turned away and hadn't seen her yet, but she realized she couldn't continue. Suddenly she was very nervous about touching him.

She had no idea how he would react. Would he push her away and laugh at her? She couldn't put a number on how many times that had happened to her already. Of course, she had to keep reminding herself that the bat and the clown were very different.

Finally making up her mind, Harley decided to just go for it.

She was about two inches from making contact when an unbelievably immense pain shot through her midsection. It was only after her body received the bullet that she heard the gun go off in the distance, the projectile having traveled much faster than the sound.

Harley was thrown back a few feet from the force and didn't even realize she had screamed until after she heard her voice. When she hit the floor, a few more gunshots filled the air before that horrifyingly familiar sinister laugh rung loud and clear.

Her vision was beginning to fade, but she could still barely make out the black vans that were present at the asylum. The air around her cracked and whistled as the bullets flew past, dangerously close to her head. She needed to get out of there _fast_. At the first attempt to turn over and crawl away, however, a jolt of blinding pain shot through her body. Glancing down, Harley got a full view of the lower half of her body, which was completely covered in sticky red blood.

She'd seen blood all of her life. The first time her parents got killed wasn't the first, but it was definitely the most impacting. Well, it _was_ , until now. Her legs and stomach were coated in a thick layer of her own blood, and she could actually feel herself getting colder by the second.

"Blood…," she moaned weakly, dipping two of her fingers in it to get a better look. "So…much blood…"

"Hang on," came a deep voice beside her, causing her to frown.

Who was that? What was she even doing here? Why couldn't she just be in bed right now and go to sleep? She was so tired…

Whoever it was that was next to her threw a few small pellets to the other side of the bridge. They exploded on contact, causing the men with guns to duck in all directions in search of cover. Grenades? Her companion was throwing grenades and the other people had guns? Was she at war? A war in a world that was slowly going black and spinning so very very fast.

One more pellet and suddenly she was surrounded in thick gray smoke. She let out a small noise of surprise when she felt two strong arms pick her up, one hooked under her legs while the other held her back firmly. The breeze hit Harley's face for a few short seconds and she heard tires screeching madly from far off, but they were definitely getting closer. Five seconds later, she was inside a car, heading fast in a direction that she had never heard of. It was so hard to concentrate on anything right now.

What _did_ she know? She had just escaped a war zone and her companion was helping her. She wasn't sure who her companion was but for some reason he was wearing a mask. Harley smiled at him. What a silly thing to do, wearing a mask out in public like that.

Hey, come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea. She should start wearing a mask too. It might help her stay warm because she was freezing, and there was nothing she could do to stop the chills that were running down her spine. Oh, the mask would definitely keep her cozy. And maybe after she was a bit warmer, she could use it to mop up the mess of blood she was in. She almost laughed when she thought about how _pissed_ the owner of this car was going to be when they saw the stains she was leaving on the seat.

She couldn't laugh, however, because her stomach was hurting. Really bad. Ow. Talk about a tummy ache. Harley wanted to make more of an effort to remember why her stomach hurt but sleep suddenly sounded like _such_ a good idea. Maybe a nap might help. Yea…just a quick nap.

Sleep wasn't hard to find after she settled in more comfortably. The purr of the engine was just so _soothing_. Almost like a lullaby. Harley smiled, happy she wouldn't be struggling with insomnia tonight.

In fact, she was unconscious before she finished closing her eyes.

* * *

 **I'd love it if you guys and gals would continue reviewing. Thanks so much for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hellooooooo! Thanks for the feedback that you guys have given me over the past few days. It's been really interesting to see what you like and don't like, and it's also given me ideas for...other stories. So if I don't get to include everything in this story, there's a high chance I might include it in the next. I'm honestly kind of excited for it. Given, of course, that my life gives me more time to write and relieve some stress.**

 **As always, I hope you like this chapter.**

* * *

Harley opened her eyes to find herself in a very cold room. She was in a normal bed, covered in soft white sheets that were neatly tucked underneath her. Her legs felt as heavy as her eyelids, both numb and sore from not having been moved in ages. After a few seconds, Harley discovered that her arms weren't in better condition. Everything was painfully stiff. It almost felt like being wrapped in plaster while your muscles ached. How long had she been…?

Well, _wherever_ the hell she was at.

A light was shining down from overhead, its source being a big metal rod, almost like the kind dentists used to get a better look at the inside of their patients' mouths. The steady beeping sound to her right let her know she was hooked up to a machine and that it was keeping track of heart activity. But how in the hell did she get to a hospital? And more importantly, why?

There were voices around her, probably on the other side of the room judging by how soft they sounded. Harley could tell the voices belonged to two different people, but they were being much too quiet for her to make out exactly what they were saying. She turned her head to see who it was but had to squint her eyes to try and see through the darkness. Besides the light pointed directly at her face, the room was actually quite dark, much too dark to be a real hospital. Unless it was night time, which could also be a possibility. At the moment, Harley had no idea what time it was.

A plain black carpet adorned the floor while the walls were made of stone, giving Harley a reason to think it was probably why the room was so cold. Also, stone walls meant she was _definitely_ not in a hospital. She was in something that looked like a normal room but with stone walls and a few medical supplies.

As soon as she started moving, the voices in the room stopped completely. The light was moved away from her face so as not to shine too harshly into her eyes, but Harley didn't have to see to know there was only one person in the room with her now. The sound of a door and retreating footsteps was audible from the far wall. Whoever the second person was had just left.

There was a dull but aching pain in her stomach and it took all of Harley's willpower not to scream when she felt a sting of agony shoot through her entire abdomen. Well, served her right. She probably shouldn't have tried to get up so quickly, but she couldn't help herself. There were too many questions in her mind and very few answers for them that she could come up with on her own.

The light, which was now pointed at the wall next to her bed, reflected out enough to illuminate the whole room. It was a strange place, to say the least. Very much like a hospital but not like one at all. There were medical supplies on the table against the wall but there was also a television, a stereo, and shelves full of books of all sizes. If it weren't for the lack of light, the room might seem peaceful, or even relaxing. The only reason Harley was relaxed now was because she was under medication. She could tell she was doped up due to the lightheaded state of semi-consciousness she was slowly waking up from. And with every second that went by, her mind became clearer and the pain in her stomach grew more and more painful.

With the silence that followed, it wasn't difficult to assume the identity of who was with her. There was only one person Harley knew who could become so completely silent and motionless. It was, however, strange to feel a sense of relief wash over her. Wherever she was, she was with the bat, and she knew he could be trusted.

At least that's what she hoped.

Harley's eyes scanned the darkness of the room in search of his huge form. When she finally spotted him, she wasn't surprised to see him staring at her eyes already. By now she was used to it, having suffered the tension of his gaze for weeks and weeks. Harley was silent for a moment, noticing the funny play of shadows on his suit. Because of the dark color of the carpet and the way his cape draped around him, it almost looked like he had shot up from the ground itself. Kind of like one of those ghosts in the scary movies she liked to watch as a kid.

"How are you feeling?" the bat asked her gently. She struggled to give a response because her throat was painfully dry but he didn't seem to mind waiting for her. Apparently he was in a patient mood today.

Harley cleared her throat as best as she could, inducing a few coughs. With each cough that erupted from her body, a sharp pain shot across her stomach and spread out to the rest of her. She shut her eyes tight and tried to stifle them, leading to more pain, this time in her chest. A cup was placed to her lips and she gratefully took it, gulping down the tepid water. When it was finally over, Harley opened her eyes and nodded towards the bat. "Good," she croaked out weakly. "I'm good."

"Are you in any pain?"

Harley shook her head as best as she could. "Not really," she lied. Of course, there probably wasn't any point in lying. The bat had obviously just seen what her condition was.

"It might be a few weeks before that's true, but you'll be fine. I expect a full recovery with no permanent damage except for a small scar."

Asking him what the hell he was talking about quickly became second priority when she remembered that her stomach was causing her more pain than she had ever felt in her life. Looking down and peeling the sheet away from her body, Harley noticed that she was wearing strange clothes, but that's not what surprised her the most. The shock came from seeing her entire midsection wrapped expertly in gauze.

She looked up at him with a horrified expression. "What did you _do_ to me?"

The bat calmly held out his hand and revealed a tiny plastic vial, shaking it a few times. The thing made a rattling sound that Harley found rather annoying. Her ears were more sensitive due to the medication and the clicking was not a pleasant sound by any means.

"I had to remove the bullet and make sure there was no internal bleeding. The rest of that," the bat motioned with a finger, pointing at the gauze, "Is just to keep anything from getting infected."

All of a sudden, the events of the night before came crashing down on Harley, sobering her of any anger or confusion she was feeling. Hazy memories were all she had, but it didn't take long for her to put some of the pieces together.

"So I've been here all night?" she asked the bat.

"Yes," he said slowly. "And the night before. And the one before that."

Hmm. Three days. No wonder she felt so hungry.

Harley opened her mouth but paused, not sure how to ask in a way that didn't sound rude. Why she was here was no longer a mystery. Now for the next question.

"Where exactly am I?"

"Somewhere safe," the bat answered simply, the tone not leaving room for much else in terms of discussion. Harley got the hint not to be so curious and dropped her arms to her sides, staring at the ground. She was thinking of something else to ask when she heard him clear his throat. "You can rest assured you won't be found by anyone that's trying to hurt you. There's nothing to worry about."

He wouldn't tell her where they were at. Fine. It wasn't really too important to know where she was but she made a mental note to try and ask him again later. What she wanted to ask now, however, was: if there was nothing to worry about, why was he still in his suit? He was impeccably dressed, the damage done to his armor during the explosion at Arkham having been erased completely. Either he was really good at fixing it, or he had multiple suits. Was there something else he had to worry about, forcing him to leave it on so he could be ready to fight? Or was it something else?

The answer, after some very quick and logical thinking, came quickly to Harley. The mask wouldn't come off as long as he was in _her_ presence. They were both physically safe from danger, but his identity wasn't safe from her.

Slightly irritated that he still wouldn't trust her, Harley puffed out her cheeks and let out a long breath of air. Hadn't she proved herself by now? She had refused to go with the clown and she had helped him out with his investigations. It might even be fair to say that if it weren't for her, Gotham might have lost a few city blocks due to that bomb he took away from the Italians. And there was no telling how many lives that included.

Yet here he was, fully dressed in his batsuit in a place he promised was safe. Harley wanted to throw herself backwards against the pillows in anger like a teenage drama queen but quickly decided against it. She figured sudden movements in her condition probably weren't healthy. Or pain free.

"You said I'm gonna have a scar?"

"I made sure to make the smallest incision possible when I dug the bullet out. It won't be big, but yes, you will scar."

Harley internally groaned. Great. Another scar. When she was doing bad things, she got scars. Even doing the right thing gave her marks. She already had enough of them and adding to her collection was the opposite of good fortune. Regular physical encounters with the law had scratched her up some, but the biggest scars she had were courtesy of the clown. On nights where the clown was particularly frustrated, he had taken a knife and carved on her and some of the goons…all for the purpose of relieving stress. It was frightening and sickening, but no one dared stop him. The only times it was pain free but just as terrifying was when everyone got to see him cut _himself_.

Remembering something else, Harley slowly reached up with her left hand and pulled the short sleeve of her right arm up to reveal the shoulder. A long, thin line of raised skin was lighter in tone than the rest of her, decorating her shoulder with a permanent scar.

"See this, bats?" she asked him.

"Yes."

Harley lifted up the corner of her mouth in a half smile. "Guess who gave that to me with a certain batarang?"

"That was the fourth time I came across you. I realized you weren't simply a one time partner for the Joker and it was going to be nearly impossible to get you to return to your old life. Since tearing you away from a life of crime was no longer as manageable, I made sure you at least dropped that bag of diamonds you were trying to steal from Gotham City Bank."

The teasing in her demeanor ended and Harley only stared, slightly shocked. The bat had one hell of a memory. She didn't remember it was the fourth time they had fought, or that it was Gotham City Bank that the clown and her were at. She did, however, remember dropping the bag of diamonds and crying out when the batarang sliced into her skin.

"Who woulda thought we'd get to be on different terms than we were back then, huh bats?" she mused.

"I can honestly say I didn't," he replied, causing her to smile again.

"How long will I stay here?" she asked, closing her eyes after she'd carefully laid back down.

"Until you're better."

"And then?"

The bat was silent, either ignoring her or not listening. Or he was thinking about the answer. Or maybe he had silently slipped out of the room while she wasn't looking. Too many possibilities.

When she could no longer hold the curiosity, Harley forced her eyes open and turned her head in his direction. A serious look was on his face but he hadn't moved even a single inch.

"Then," he began slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully. "Then we can focus on getting you out of here. Away from Gotham, where you can start a new life."

A huge grin spread over Harley's face as soon as the bat's words registered in her mind. She could feel her heartbeat quicken with joy and hoped the sudden rush of blood didn't make her injury throb. Other than that, there was nothing that could ruin the moment. Batbreath didn't want to show her his face? Fine. She didn't care anymore.

She was finally going to get away.

Raising her arms slightly, Harley ran her thin fingers over her charm bracelet and thanked her parents for the good fortune they had sent her way. Mostly because she knew she didn't deserve it.

If months ago, someone had told her that she would be smiling like an idiot out of pure happiness while in the presence of an enemy and in a scenario where neither of them was trying to kill the other, Harley would have laughed.

But things were different now. Better.

Harley was getting along with the bat, planning her trip to a place that wasn't Gotham. He had rescued her more than once now and had even operated on her so that she wouldn't die. He had pulled her away from danger and away from the Joker…who had been the one to try and kill her. The clown had shot her right in the stomach, and she was pretty sure he hadn't meant to keep her alive after that.

Yes, things were _much_ different now.

"Thank you," was all she could think of saying.

What else _could_ she say? Besides, even if she thought of anything else, it might be interrupted by a few tears. The emotion of learning that she would finally leave Gotham was a bit too much at the moment. If she kept talking, there was no stopping them.

No more Gotham. No more Arkham. No more doctors trying to feed her medicine in an effort to "cure her." No more chaos.

No more running.

The bat nodded once in response to her words and turned to leave. "I'll have some food and water brought to you. It won't be much, but you have to build up slowly to larger portions. Chew your food thoroughly and don't eat so fast. It might upset your stomach."

"Yes sir," she smiled, still absolutely elated with her good news. Food coming soon, chew carefully, don't eat too much. Pretty simple. She turned and offered him another smile. "Any more instructions, Dr. B?"

A scoff escaped his lips and Harley wished she could see better in the dark. She wanted to see the visible half of his face more clearly.

After he was gone and the door was closed behind him, the sound of a key locking it let her know she was being kept in, but no matter. She was still thinking about the bat's promise to get her out of Gotham. Of how, without expecting anything in return except for information, the bat was helping her out. She also thought about how relaxed he was when he was around her now, almost enough to get him to break away from his serious moods. She wanted so desperately to see him pull away from his seriousness. Maybe she'd get to do it before she left Gotham. He had almost laughed just now, right?

Laying her head back on the pillow with the intention of sleeping, Harley smiled to herself and wondered if she would ever see the bat do the same.

* * *

 **As you can tell, there's starting to be a slight shift in Harley's character. Please keep in mind that she's been holed up in Arkham for MONTHS, away from crime, and although that doesn't count as completely "curing" someone criminal, it starts to plant a seed of something new within her. The events directly after that is what will help her grow into someone new, which is kind of what I'm going for. (It's also my excuse for having her so OOC lol)**

 **Send me a PM or leave a review to tell me how you feel about that.**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! To those who celebrate it, anyways. I've been insanely busy, more than usual, and the family I had in town just left yesterday. I couldn't sneak away even for a little bit to reread this chapter for any spelling errors and such before posting. Now it's Tuesday and time to go back to work, and although it's really early in the day, I thought I'd get this out. It's now or never, considering my amount of free time...**

 **Anyways, I hope you like this chapter, and again, really sorry for the late update.**

* * *

Harley got better over the next few days. The food and water seemed to work wonders on her body after her stomach was empty for so long. And even though she had slept three days straight when the bat first brought her to that room, she never seemed to be anything but tired. Despite the exhaustion, every time she awoke, she felt stronger and healthier.

It was on the second day of being awake that she allowed herself to try and get off the bed for something other than a bathroom break and walk around a bit, stretching out her stiff legs. The minute Harley stepped down on the soft carpet, her body ached and her head began spinning, pushing her to make a rather hasty decision to lay back down and promise herself she'd never do that again. Instead, she only left when she absolutely had to in the days after that.

Today, she snuggled deeper into the large bed and let out a long sigh, shaking her head. Too many times had she asked herself how long she'd be there, weak and vulnerable. Usually the clown was the one who had the particularly brutal beatings, usually at the hands of the bat, but his recovery time was three days at most. Harley had been in for a little over a week now and couldn't even walk without wincing in pain. When the clown was nursing his injuries, Harley never left his side, despite all the insults and physical pushing she received. And now that she was the one hurt, the clown was not only nowhere near her to help, but he had been the one to shoot her.

Funny how things changed.

It was definitely a wild twist of fate, to end up in the care of her enemy. Although now she wouldn't consider him an enemy. Not after her "friends" had tried to kill her and the bat had been the one to save her.

Turning her head and looking at the clock on the wall, Harley smiled to herself. It was almost lunchtime. What was she in the mood for this time?

A man, much older than her and very respectful, came by to drop off her food at regular intervals. He was polite and courteous and never stayed longer than he had to. She tried to make casual conversation with him a few times, more to fill the silence than for anything else, but his short answers, while never rude, gave her the hint that he wasn't up for a talk. He was simply following the bat's orders to look after her, apparently.

She gathered the courage one day to ask for his name, which he replied with Alfred. No last name or anything. Just Alfred. With that, he bowed to her and left the room quietly, not once looking back. Neither he nor the bat ever looked back even though they still closed the door behind them and locked it. Harley had thought about why and could assume they were not scared of her but were still trying to keep her from getting past the door.

Seeing what was on the other side was never a problem for Harley. The curiosity nagged for a short while but it withered away every time she thought about what the bat had done for her. He had gotten her away from danger and then saved her life by digging the bullet out from inside her. Even when the bat visited her, Harley never brought up the fact that she was confined to the room. After everything that had happened, the least she could do was be respectful of the boundaries and restrictions he had placed.

Going back to her thought of food, Harley quickly went over a list of possibilities. Not like she was running out of options, but she liked to be specific and have something already in mind by the time Alfred came around. She had already tried the noodles, which were absolutely amazing. Harley was going to just play it safe the next day and have noodles again, but then she decided to have steak. It must have been from a farm because it was the best steak she'd had in a long time. Since food seemed to be good in general in the bat's care, she tried a few other things, never sticking with the same meal twice. She even threw in some tacos for dinner the night before. The only word that came to mind when she tried them was: Wow.

Food wasn't the only thing that came upon a simple request. In the room, which convinced Harley that it was more than just a hospital, was a large amount of books and music. A huge cardboard box had been brought that contained all kinds of movies, books, and magazines. On the fourth day she was awake, Harley practically squealed in delight when she found a few boxes with more music than she could listen to in a lifetime. Vinyls and cassettes and CD's were pooling around them, waiting to be discovered by her. While she was recovering, if Harley was going to receive good music and better food, she never wanted to leave. Maybe an "accidental" injury could keep her here longer.

Who would be bringing her food this time? Alfred, with his impeccable tuxedo? Or the bat, with the imposing armor and flowing black cape?

The bat was in full get up every time he came into the room. Harley wondered if it was exhausting, but figured it was better to keep her mouth closed and not ask him about it. Besides, she already knew the answer. He was just Batman. He had nothing else to wear. It's what he bathed and slept in.

Lucky for Harley, she got fresh clothes every time she showered. With her injury getting better every day, she was allowed to wear normal clothes now, not the neutral, unisex, loose-fitting shirts and pants that gave her injury room to breath. She was required to give Alfred her sizes, and was provided with clothes the very next day. Alfred was a dear and let her pick her more private undergarments through a catalog, which were brought to her in a box. He promised her that no one but her would see the clothes she ordered, let alone touch them, something she was eternally grateful for. She couldn't even begin to imagine how embarrassing it would be to have the Batman and his older friend shop for those.

On the opposite wall from the door leading to the outside was a small bathroom, complete with a shower. It always had fresh towels, along with a new pair of pants and a shirt. Washing was apparently out of the question, as she never saw the same clothes twice, but the new ones she found in the bathroom were always her size. There was no other way to get into the bathroom, so Alfred probably put her clothes there late at night when she was sleeping.

Alfred, with his tidy appearance and thick english accent, was always very patient with her. No matter how long Harley took to answer one of his questions, the man never fussed about anything. Due to the generosity both the bat and Alfred showed her, Harley tried to be the model guest. Every night before falling asleep, she made sure to clean up after herself and pick up any books or vinyl that was lying on the ground. It honestly made her feel like a little kid again.

Once, when she fell asleep on the ground next to the stereo listening to music, Harley found herself in bed the next morning. She instantly realized the difference and mentally kicked herself for not walking back to bed. But she also remembered how tired she had been and how amazing the album she was listening to was. _Just one more song_ , she had told herself. Yet there she was, lying in bed with pillows all around her.

Alfred was sweet and quite handsome for a man his age, but she knew he wasn't strong enough to carry her. The only one who could have done that was the bat. A hazy memory flashed in her mind, reminding her how easily the bat had carried her to the car after she had been shot.

Harley found herself thinking of him more often.

She worried about him, mostly because she was now a witness to how dangerous his enemies could be. At any time, just like it had happened with her, a bullet could find its way into the bat. And maybe he might not be so lucky to get out alive.

Was he okay? Had he gotten hurt fighting criminals out in the dark streets of Gotham? What exactly did he do all day when he wasn't protecting the city? Did he sleep upside down and hunt insects for lunch? Or did he meet up with a Batwoman and play with their little Batchildren?

Harley clenched her jaw until it hurt. The thought of the bat with others was bothersome. It wasn't out of jealousy that he had a batwoman, she told herself. It was simply because he had someone…and she had no one. Not anymore.

Then again, did she _ever_ have the Joker? Or was that something she made herself believe? Delusions of a stupid girl, who changed her appearance and her way of life just to make him like her even more.

The thought of that made her go back to thinking of the bat. Did his batwoman have a suit too? Did they meet up for tea in full costume and keep straight faces the entire time? Harley couldn't help but smile when she tried to imagine it. What a serious, boring date.

How would something like that work, anyways? They had probably never even seen each other's real faces. The bat wasn't the trusting type. Or much of a talker. So if she couldn't see his face or have a conversation with him, what exactly would a batwoman see in him?

Maybe she had fallen for the light tanning of his skin or the smooth curve of his jaw. Or maybe she was drawn to the dark blue of his eyes, only visible every now and then when the light hit just right…

And what would she say if she knew he had Harley in his care? Was it something she would brush off as something his job entailed? Simply one more person that he was helping? Harley frowned, looking down onto her lap.

How many had there been before her?

It shouldn't have bothered her, but it did. The bat had been a hero forever, way before she came into the picture. While she was trying to fall into the good graces of a psychopath, the Batman was saving Gotham, one person at a time.

Harley's fist tightened, grasping a corner of her blanket until her knuckles turned white. Now she was _really_ ticked. No wonder Alfred was so patient with her. He must have picked it up a long time ago when the bat brought home the first one.

She was pulled from her thoughts the moment she heard the lock turn. The door opened slightly to allow the bat to slip in, silent as ever. Harley let go of the blanket and smoothened the fabric as best she could, clearing her throat in the process. When he stopped in front of her bed, she looked up and flashed him a small grin.

"Hey," she smiled.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her. That was always his first question.

Harley nodded. "A lot better, thanks."

"Are you hungry?"

The grin on her face grew wider. "Is that a serious question, bats?"

"What would you like to eat?"

"Not sure," she admitted sheepishly. "I've had a few different things already and everything's delicious. Do you cook it?"

The bat paused at the oddness of her demeanor. "Alfred," he replied after a moment.

"I figured," she teased.

A pause stretched before them as Harley thought of something else to say. She wanted anything but for him to leave. She hadn't seen him in two days.

"Thanks for the music," she blurted out. "…And the books. And the movies."

"You've already thanked me for that."

"And I'm thanking you again. Is that so bad?"

The bat gave her a nod. "You're welcome."

Harley looked over at the boxes full of movies and music on the other side of the room, waiting for her. "Ya know, I never expected to have so much without stealing it."

"There isn't a need for it. Gifts are a lot better."

"Then maybe I found my excuse for stealing," she said with a sad smile. "It's been a long time since anyone gave me a present."

The bat turned his body slightly, lifting his arm and motioning to the boxes she was staring at. He kept his arm raised but looked over at her to meet her eyes. "Those are all yours," he said slowly, finally lowering his arm and tucking it under his cape. "All of them."

Harley rolled her eyes and smiled again. "You really know how to impress a girl, don't ya, puddin'?"

"I have something else for you," he said slowly, revealing his hand again, which now held a small grey device.

Her playful demeanor instantly vanished as she focused on the object in his hand. It was easy for the bat to tell her all of the movies and albums were hers. Maybe he hadn't meant for her to have them, but it was certainly easy to just _say_ they were meant for her. Maybe he was just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear.

But for him to go out of his way to get her an actual gift?

Harley blinked back the tears she felt coming up. "You got me a present?"

"So you're not restricted to music on the stereo. I understand that to hear it and not have it blasting through the room at night, you need to sit right next to it. With this, you can listen to music while you're laying down in bed and not on the ground. It won't have as much music, but I figured it could be of some help."

Harley wanted to roll her eyes again and say, "I know what an Ipod is, batbreath." She wanted to keep the conversation going just to keep hearing his voice because it's the most she's ever heard it. He's rarely said more than two sentences at a time. She wants to ask him to grab a book and read to her until she falls asleep.

But she can't. Instead, Harley finds herself staring at him with an odd feeling in her stomach that she's positive has nothing to do with the injury. It was strange, to have someone be kind to her. She had done a lot of very unkind things to people and the last thing she was expecting was to be treated nicely.

Of course, he probably treated his _batwoman_ a lot nicer.

She looked down as the heat rose to her face, unable to keep eye contact with the bat. Picking up the same corner of the blanket, she fiddled with it awkwardly while she thought of something to say. She was mad at herself for being so bipolar and also for putting herself in this situation while he was staring at her.

"So, uh, how long before I have to leave?"

The bat was silent for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"…You know, before you bring the next one in to take my place. I'm sure you help a lot of people."

There was more silence as the bat continued staring at her. Harley glanced up to see him giving her a curious look. Still unable to hold his gaze, she looked back down and waited for his answer.

"Harley, you're the first one to stay in this room besides me."

The sound of her name sounds strange coming from him. She couldn't recall him ever using her first name, only her last. It made her want to smile.

"And Alfred," she reminded him, glancing up.

"Alfred has never been a person in recovery here."

"And you have?"

He nodded. "Every time it's bad enough."

Harley frowned as she tried to figure out what that meant. The room she was in wasn't a simple backup hospital for the bat's rescues. It was where he stayed when _he_ was hurt. It's where he stayed _permanently_. No wonder it had such a cozy, intimate feel to it, despite being so cold. The stone walls definitely had to account for that, and she cursed herself for being so stupid and not seeing it before.

It made sense that a bat would live in a _cave_.

"So this is all yours?" she asked him.

"All of it," the bat assured her. Then, he added, "I mean, all of it besides your gifts."

Harley smiled, looking into his blue eyes. "This is your batcave."

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly and Harley found herself holding her breath. In the end, all it led to was disappointment when the smile never showed. Damn, she had been so close. There was, however, some amusement in his voice the next time he spoke.

"I've never thought of it like that, but I suppose you're right," he said, looking around as if taking it all in for the first time. "It has a nice ring to it."

Harley watched as he stepped over and ran a hand along the stone wall. It was almost as if the stone had a different meaning to him, making it more important than all of the objects it held inside. After a moment, he dropped his hand and turned to her.

"Welcome," he said proudly, "To my Batcave."

* * *

 **I'm halfway through writing the next chapter, which I promise will be a lot more eventful than this one. Thanks for being patient. I just really wanted to establish how Harley's life is slowly becoming something she'd never even consider before.**

 **Please leave a review to let me know what you guys think of this one, and as always, thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Good afternoon to everyone! Terribly sorry for taking so long with this update. I sort of had writer's block and then all of a sudden I started writing and couldn't stop. Then I realized it was going to be too long of a chapter and so I had to split it. I think I found a good stopping point though, and hopefully it leaves you waiting for the next one.**

* * *

Harley could barely sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the bat, with his clean shaven jaw and piercing blue eyes. She kept seeing him over and over, standing still and welcoming her to the Batcave. Because that's where she was, and the excitement was intoxicating.

She was in the _freakin' Batcave_.

It was here that the bat spent his time when he wasn't out in the streets of Gotham protecting the city. A place that no matter how hard they tried, his enemies had never been able to find. This place was what connected him to other people, whether regular civilians or heroes and villains. Here, there was evidence that proved he was more than a bat: He was a person.

The curiosity burned inside Harley, pulling her eyes like magnets towards the door. What lay on the other side? What would she find if she opened it and walked into the next room, assuming it was a room at all?

Shaking her head in an attempt to pull herself away from those thoughts, Harley settled into her bed and wrapped herself tightly in the warm blankets. No doubt the door would be locked, just like always, although now she wasn't so sure. The last few days she hadn't heard neither Alfred nor the bat lock the door when they left. They probably assumed that by then she had gotten the idea not to wander off. Besides, even if they didn't use a key and lock, the bat probably had some high-tech sensor that would alert him if she tried to leave the room.

But why exactly had the bat chosen to bring her here? Out of all places, he had brought her to the place where he felt the safest. Now she knew why he was so certain that no harm would come to her there. It must have been more protected than the White House.

Was it trust that made him choose this place? Did he trust her enough to bring an enemy to his home? She wasn't an enemy anymore, sure, but Harley would have thought long and hard before she took someone to a place she trusted as safe. Would she have taken him to the last home she had, the one her parents had chosen to leave only to be killed?

It was that reason that probably led her to believe it was the safest on the planet. Nothing had ever happened to her parents while they lived in that house. Now, although it was still in her family's name and was now owned by Harley, the house was vacant. She simply couldn't bring herself to go back. Not without her mom and dad.

Did the bat actually believe her when she said she wanted a different life? He had witnessed her cooperation and not only that, but he had also seen her refuse to escape Arkham with the Joker. Maybe that was the final test to convince him that she was turning a new leaf and leave Gotham. Which, come to think of it, was a reason it didn't matter if she was here or not. Harley had seen _one_ of the rooms in the batcave, but she didn't know where it was and what the rest of the cave looked like. Or what it looked like from the outside and how to get in. When she was far away in a new city and starting a new life, there would be no need to know all of that.

It was either that or the bat was planning to kill her.

Of course, that wasn't likely. Not if he had gone through the trouble of nursing her back to health. Not to mention all the money, time, and effort spent on feeding and clothing her.

The mystery of why he had brought her to the Batcave was only added on to why he had saved her. Maybe one day she'd know, or maybe she wouldn't. There was no way to find out for sure unless she asked him directly.

Closing her eyes, Harley resigned herself to a sleepless night, but it didn't mean she wouldn't be able to rest her body completely. Even just laying still and forcing herself to relax was better than nothing. The iPod was next to her head beside the pillow, but she decided to give it a break for the night. Poor thing seemed to be on all day because she couldn't get enough of the music it held.

It was after a few minutes of peaceful silence that the sound of screeching tires reached her ears. Harley immediately opened her eyes, frowning at the sound. The noise was faint…but it was there. She was sure of it. And she was sure she'd never heard anything before that wasn't in the room. It was probably due to the fact that she was always watching a movie or playing music. It'd never been that quiet.

The car came to a sudden stop, the loud cry of its breaks ringing out. It was absolutely impossible to know for sure, but Harley could almost bet that it was the car that rescued her the night she was shot. It had to be the Batmobile.

Harley held her breath, desperate to hear anything else. The purr of the engine died down and then she heard the sound of a car door open. She waited a few seconds and was surprised when the sound of the door closing never came. Instead, there was a sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

Moving slowly, only barely affecting the mostly healed stomach wound, Harley slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door. She pressed a palm against the cold metal, turning her head to listen more carefully. It seemed to only affect what she was hearing, blocking out the sound. In the end, she chose to kneel and put her ear to the crack of the door next to the floor.

It was another minute of painful straining to hear anything before Harley was rewarded with more sounds. Things falling and clattering on the ground, apparently made of all kinds of metals and glass. A few objects crashed to the floor and shattered while the sounds of things being pushed over roughly became more frequent.

What the hell was going on? Had someone finally broken into the Batcave and decided to destroy everything in sight? Or did the bat have one too many at the bar and couldn't figure out how to walk straight?

A loud groan made Harley hold her breath again, hoping to hear more. She was sure it was a man's voice, especially after a curse word rang out. It was followed by a repeated knocking sound, like an open palm being slammed onto the floor itself. She was frowning in an effort to figure out what it was when she heard the bat's pain-filled voice roar out, "ALFRED!"

The sound of his yelling made Harley's skin crawl. It was the sound of desperation and blinding pain. Forgetting about the fact that the door should have been locked, Harley scrambled to her feet and turned the doorknob. She was slightly surprised to find it open, quickly slipping through the space and entering the next room. The bat's moans could be heard in the darkness that surrounded Harley. The room felt large and very open, although it was the same temperature as her room. Careful not to step on or bump into anything, Harley moved closer to the moans.

It was difficult at first, maneuvering her way through the maze of objects. It didn't help that the floor was uneven and there were only a few lights on. When she finally found the bat, Harley pressed a hand to her mouth and stifled a scream.

He was lying on the floor in a black and red suit, a few gadgets sprawled on the floor next to him. There was a desk in front of them with a set of expensive looking computer screens. The largest one in the center provided enough light to reveal that the bat was on his back and wincing in pain. His teeth were clenched together and his body looked tense.

Swallowing the screams of fright that were threatening to come out, Harley rushed forward and sat next to him. She carefully picked his head up and placed it on her lap. His body felt hot, much more than she would have thought he would be in this room. Just as she pulled her hands back, she noticed they were covered in red. She could feel the bat's blood dripping down her legs and instantly knew it was coming from the back of his head.

It only took her another few seconds to realize his suit wasn't _supposed_ to be red. Just black.

Somehow, throughout the night, the bat had collected enough injuries to soak his suit in blood. Whether it was his own, his enemies' blood, or a combination of both, the bat was clearly in pain and in the process of bleeding out. She had to do _something_.

Harley looked around to find something but instead only noticed the trail of blood next to the bat. It led back about twenty yards to his car, which still had the door open. By the looks of it, he had tried to climb onto a chair and failed, knocking a few things over in the process.

In the darkness and working solely with the light the computers were emitting, Harley felt helpless. She wanted to know where all the blood was coming from but knew it was hopeless. There were too many layers to cover his injuries and she had no medical experience. No experience and no one to help her. No one except…

"Alfred!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Alfred, help him!"

She wanted to stop the tears from rolling down her face but simply couldn't. The only person who'd ever been kind to her was dying in her arms. The one who saved her life and kept her safe was slipping away and there was nothing she could do about it except call for someone else.

How _pathetic_.

Another groan escaped the bat's lips and she looked down, placing both hands on the side of his head to hold him steady. She wished he'd open his eyes just slightly so she could see the shade of blue they held. She wanted so much to see them again just in case it was the last time.

"Red…button," he whispered hoarsely, his breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. "Top…right corner."

The words made no sense to Harley. She was about to pass them off as delusional when he reached up and pointed to the desk with all those screens. Laying his head back down carefully, Harley stood and ran over to the desk. There was a ridiculous amount of buttons and switches that decorated the desk. She scanned the top right corner and found a button with a soft, pulsing red ring of light around it. Harley pressed it firmly and saw another red light turn on. It had the same tempo as the blinking light on the desk but was above her on the wall, like a school fire alarm.

She wasn't sure if she was supposed to wait for a response, so she ran back to her spot next to the bat. "I pushed it. Help is on the way," she said as soothingly as possible. It was kind of hard to sound reassuring in between suppressed sobs.

The bat nodded slightly but let out another groan of pain. Harley put a hand on his shoulder and the other found his hand. She squeezed it a few times and told him everything was going to be alright. The words, no matter how many times she said them, didn't feel any truer.

An elevator opened from the wall near them, revealing Alfred in his usual black and white tux. A second was all it took for him to grasp the severity of the situation. Dropping the tray of drinks in his hand, he rushed over to them and knelt next to Harley as he examined the bat.

"Help him, Alfred," she pleaded desperately, pulling on his white shirt with her bloodied hand.

The older man was concentrating on finding the bat's pulse, paying no attention to her. He was shaking his head with a worried expression as his hands examined a few places.

"Oh, what was it this time, Master Bruce?" he whispered gravely with the saddest look Harley had ever seen on anyone. Like the look of a desperate parent when their only child is in pain and there's nothing that can be done. But Alfred was no where near being helpless. He pulled away and stood up, running to another part of the cave and returning with a small bed that looked like the kind put inside ambulances. Alfred quickly pulled a few levers and the bed lowered to the ground, the metal bars bending under it.

"Help me put him on here," the older man ordered her, grabbing hold of the bat's shoulders. Harley nodded numbly, walking around to hold his legs. Even between the two of them, picking the bat up just a few inches was extremely difficult. When they finally had him lying on the bed, Harley's heart sank at the sight of all the blood left in a puddle where the bat had been.

They pushed the bat to the room where she was staying, finding a place for him next to her bed. She stood next to him and held his hand again, noticing how cold he was now. She hoped it was because of the room's temperature and not because of something else.

"I must ask you to leave the room," said Alfred in his thick English accent. Even his courtesy wasn't enough to mask his worry. He was looking through the drawers and pulling out all kinds of medical supplies.

Refusing to go back outside to the room with all the blood, Harley ran into the bathroom and shut the door. She turned the lock and put her back to the wall, sliding down to a sitting position. There was so much blood on her but she couldn't bring herself to walk the few steps to the shower. Why was she freaking out over a little blood when the bat was in the next room _dying_?

Harley pulled her knees to her chest and dug her face into her arms. What else could she do?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

With the Batman facing death, all Harley _could_ do was rock back and forth and hope Alfred couldn't hear her cry.

* * *

 **I want to thank everyone for the lovely reviews and messages that are sent my way. It's one of the reasons I feel guilty for not updating as quick as I'd like to. I still can't believe I'm nine chapters in (with ten written). I've never written a story this long, and I'm not sure how much longer I could go, but I promise I'll keep trying. Please feel free to leave more reviews or send me a PM. I love meeting the people who take the time out of their day to read my stories.**

 **Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Hope everyone is staying warm, because it really sucks to be freezing all day. No amount of heat can warm up my car enough before I have to start driving, and although fresh snow is fun to play in, getting around is a whole 'nother story. Having said that, life gets in the way and the updates unfortunately aren't worked on as often.**

 **I hope this chapter is enough to make up for it this time.**

* * *

"Miss Quinn?"

Alfred's voice woke Harley from a terrible nightmare. She was still shaking and her neck hurt from the awkward angle it had been in for the past few hours. Looking around and finding herself on the floor of the bathroom and covered in blood, she knew it was no nightmare she had experienced. It had all been real.

"Are you alright?" came the polite tone from the other side of the door. Harley wanted to say something in order to ease the man's worry, but nothing came out when she parted her lips. Her throat was dry and it had that familiar feel of something lumpy caught right in her windpipe. The tears had run out but her body wasn't fully recovered.

"Oh, I do wish you would say something to let me know you're alright."

"I'm okay," she croaked out finally, wincing slightly as she untangled herself from her half-sitting/ half-lying down position. Her joints ached and her neck was most likely going to give her some trouble for a few days.

"May I come in?"

Harley took a few deep breaths before she unlocked the door and pulled it open slowly, revealing an exhausted Alfred. The bags under his eyes were a dark shade and his skin looked pale. It was so different to see him that way. He was usually so well dressed and kept impeccable hygiene. Now he looked like he hadn't slept in ages, which was probably the case.

"I shall bring you more clothes so that you may shower. I apologize for not thinking of it sooner. I'm sure you thought of cleaning up but had nothing to cover up with afterwards."

It was true that Harley didn't have any more spare clothes in the bathroom, but if she had gotten to showering and wiping off the blood, anything would have been better than the stained red clothing. She might have even stayed in just a towel. But showering, along with everything else, came second to the main thing plaguing her mind.

"Is he going to be okay?" she whispered.

"It was difficult to manage, but yes, I do believe he shall recover. He is young and strong and has unfortunately faced worse than this before. He will be up and wearing that cape again before either of us know it," Alfred said reassuringly, even adding a small smile.

Harley nodded numbly as the words registered in her mind. The bat was going to be fine. He was going to recover, but he would need time to do so. Kind of like her. After a few weeks, she was almost as good as new. Same thing with the bat, right?

"Let me fetch those clothes," said Alfred, turning on one heel to leave.

"Alfred," she said quickly, causing him to turn back towards her with full attention. "Is there anything I can do to help him?"

The older man gave her a look and then turned to glance into the other room. After a moment, an expression of acceptance came over his face as he sighed. He seemed to be resigning himself to the reality that he had to leave her alone with an unconscious Batman while he wasn't went for her clothes.

"I won't peek," she told him. "I promise."

No, she wouldn't be peeking. She was over that.

"Very well then," said Alfred, nodding slightly. "Keep him company and in the rare scenario that he wakes, let him know that I shall return shortly."

With that, he quickly left the room and didn't even bother closing the door behind him all the way. Which wasn't going to be a problem anyways. Harley wasn't sure if Alfred had gotten around to cleaning the blood next to the computers in the other room, but she wasn't about to go find out. She would stay where she was at.

Finding her way to the door and passing into the next room, Harley found herself staring at a sleeping bat, his breaths long and deep. There was a certain hitch to his inhales, probably from a fractured or broken rib, but otherwise seemed peaceful. His face showed no signs of disturbances. Well, the half that was visible, anyways.

A modification of his mask was over his head, much different in appearance to his others. It honestly looked like it was made in a rush, composed of malleable metals and sheets of plastic. Probably Alfred's work when he realized Harley would have to see him eventually.

Harley looked around and tried to look for anything he might need if he woke up. The one thing that came to mind was water. It suddenly reminded her that she was thirsty as well, and she took a minute to rush back into the bathroom and drink straight from the tap. Either the filtering system was amazing or she was just that thirsty because it tasted like absolute heaven.

Finding a cup on one of the book shelves that had been left there on a day she was reading, Harley rinsed it out and filled it with water. She dragged a small wooden coffee table closer to the bed and placed the cup on it, along with a few scraps of food she found. The chips and salsa were hers, along with the half eaten sandwich from last night's supper, but she also found a few bananas and a cup of tea. If Alfred had operated on the bat, he must have eaten a bit to keep his strength up.

Harley looked at the pile of random scraps and sighed. Well, it wasn't a feast the bat was going to wake up to, but she had tried.

The medicine in the cabinets was the final thing on the list. There were a few bottles that held pills with names she'd never heard of and wouldn't even try to pronounce, but she knew what Aspirin looked like. Sure she was a doctor at Arkham at one point, but she was specializing in mental disorders. She wasn't a pharmacist.

When she finally hit the jackpot, she placed them next to the food and sat in her chair. She pushed her recliner, which was a lot heavier than she had anticipated, up close until it was right next to the bed. The second she was finished, Alfred walked through the door after a light knock, looking as clean and tidy as she was used to.

"Here we are," he said joyfully, handing her a pile of neatly folded clothes. "I dare say that sometimes a simple shower is enough to make me feel like a new man."

"Maybe it'll help me too," she said hopefully, taking the clothes and heading towards the bathroom. Once the door was closed, Harley quickly shed the bloodied clothes and stood under the running water for what seemed like forever. She scrubbed every inch of her skin, afraid she might get out and discover she hadn't gotten it all off. When she was finally convinced it was all erased, she turned the water off and dried herself off, jumping into the new clothes. She pulled her hair back into a simple bun and brushed her teeth, finally finding some tranquility.

She was clean again. No more blood. And the bat was going to recover. Those were the most important things at the moment.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the bat was still asleep and Alfred was busy scrubbing a few things in the tiny sink. They looked like a bunch of medical tools and Harley quickly looked away. She didn't want to know what exactly had been used to poke and cut into the bat.

"Ah, there you are," said Alfred, as if he had been looking for her and didn't know where to find her. "How do you feel?"

"Better," she nodded, glad to finally be able to breath deeply again without the feeling of dread that loomed over her. Not knowing whether the bat was alright affected her more than she was willing to admit out loud.

Alfred turned the sink off and patted his hands dry. "I must tend to some other errands, but I will be back periodically to check on him when I can." He turned his attention to her. "Will you be alright with him?"

"I'll make sure he's okay," Harley assured him, hoping her voice sounded as confident as she wanted to be.

"Very well, then," Alfred sighed, flashing her a polite smile before glancing at the bat one last time and leaving the room.

Harley smiled back, partly to be courteous and partly because she couldn't believe her luck. Or was it something else entirely? Did Alfred actually trust her when she promised not to peek?

Whether he trusted her or had simply forgotten, Harley climbed into her chair and leaned back, close to the bat but away from his mask. She wasn't going to pull it back to see the man underneath. It felt wrong.

With fresh clothes and the knowledge that the bat was going to recover, Harley found herself very sleepy. She had slept a few hours in the bathroom but it was filled with worry and horror. Now, everything was cleared up and she could feel a peaceful slumber coming on. She was able to sneak in a slow yawn before sleep had taken over completely.

* * *

A pair of strained coughs caused Harley's eyes to shoot open. She sat up quickly and saw the coughs were coming from the bat, who was shutting his eyes tightly while putting a closed fist to his mouth to stifle them.

Jumping up from the couch, Harley reached for the cup of water and held it up to the bat's lips. He drank the entire thing in four large gulps and exhaled loudly when he was done.

"Thank you, Alfred," he sighed.

"Umm, Alfred is out but he'll be back soon," she said quietly. It was _so_ good to hear his voice again.

The bat's eyes opened slowly as he turned to look at her. "Harley?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, smiling now. "You've been out a few hours and Alfred told me to keep watch. I'll go get him, if you want."

"Please," the bat whispered, nodding his head as best as he could.

After putting the cup of water down, Harley walked towards the door. She lessened her pace when she got near, wondering how exactly she was going to call Alfred. The only thing that came to mind was to use the same red button as the night before. Hopefully Alfred didn't think it was a bad kind of emergency and came running in a panic.

Outside, the room was as dark as before and Harley had to step carefully to find her way to the open space with the computers. When she finally made it, she scanned the desk and located the red pulsing button, pressing it firmly. Again, the pulsing light began to emit from a bulb above her head, letting Harley know that her job had been done.

The entire place smelled of bleach and disinfectant. There wasn't a spot of blood in sight and Harley was immensely thankful that Alfred had found some time to clean it all up. As she turned around to head back, Harley noticed all the computers around her. There had to be at least half a dozen. The larger one in front of where the chair should be was easily the largest, towering over her and probably half the size of a movie theater screen. The others were smaller but seemed no less sophisticated. They all had way too many buttons and switches.

So this was the place where the World's Greatest Detective did his research.

Had he ever looked her up here? What exactly had he found? What kinds of things did he know about her that she didn't think anyone else knew?

Well, secrets, even his, eventually got out. One way or another.

The sound of an elevator shook her out of her thoughts. She couldn't tell if it was going down or up, but a few seconds later a door slid open and Alfred stepped out.

"He's awake now," she said awkwardly, stepping away from the screens.

"Let us go to him, then," he nodded, raising a hand and motioning for her to lead the way.

Harley and Alfred made their way through the dim light back to the room and were surprised to see the bat sitting up. He had pulled free from the blankets and was sitting at the edge of the bed with his feet hanging over the edge. His hands were slowly going over his arms, back, shoulders, and midsection, apparently assessing the damage.

"What was the worst of it, Alfred?" he asked him immediately.

"Impact by blunt object to the posterior cranium," Alfred recited, apparently used to this kind of question.

"The sledgehammer," nodded the bat, rubbing the back of his head.

"Triple parallel incisions to the lower left midsection," he continued, but again was interrupted.

"The pitchfork."

"-and a deep laceration to the left shoulder, with traces of heavily corroded metal still embedded in the wound when treatment was provided."

"The chainsaw."

"Must have been some night," Alfred said, almost sarcastically.

"Definitely one to remember."

Harley couldn't believe her ears. The two of them were talking about this as if it were the most normal thing in the world, but how could they? How could someone get used to being attacked with chainsaws and knives and guns and hammers and freakin' _pitchforks_?

Seriously?

The price he had to pay to keep Gotham safe.

The two of them continued to speak in medical terms and Harley zoned most of it out. She tried to focus on other things, scanning his body with her eyes for the injuries that weren't being mentioned. They were easy to spot, but so was something else. With a few areas patched up, the rest of the bat's upper half was completely free of clothing. Now she knew the mouldings in his suit weren't all for show. Harley felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she noticed that the bat was unbelievably muscular under his suit.

She came back to her senses when Alfred handed the bat some clothes and said something about needing to get dressed. The bat gave him a knowing look and turned serious, watching as the older man left the room.

"Would you mind stepping into the next room? I need to remove my mask to pull the shirt over my head," the bat asked her gently, his head turned away from her. He was carefully getting off the bed to stand a few feet in front of her.

Harley didn't move, staying glued to the spot she was standing it. Her feet were practically nailed to the floor. It was now or never.

"Harley," the bat tried, this time actually looking over at her and meeting her gaze. When he saw her expression, he turned his full attention to her. "Harley?"

 _Three deep breaths,_ she told herself. One. Two. On the exhale of the third one, she whispered out, as softly as she could.

"Bruce."

The frown of confusion from the bat's face turned to that of surprise and then confusion again. "What did you say?" he asked in a low voice, taking a step towards her.

"Your name is Bruce," she said as calmly as she could.

There was long pause before he spoke again. "Who told you that?"

"Alfred did," she responded. Then, realizing how it sounded, quickly added, "Alfred w-was so worried about you last night that it slipped. I don't think he knows he did it or if I could hear him, but he did. He called you Bruce. Or, well, more specifically, _Master_ Bruce."

The bat was as still as a statue, reminding her of the days at Arkham where he would stand in front of her in the council rooms completely motionless. His eyes never left hers, studying her carefully. Harley took another deep breath and continued, hoping her confidence didn't run out too soon.

"Only one Bruce in Gotham is important enough to be called 'master' by who I'm guessing is your butler. Only one Bruce can afford to keep all of these expensive toys and provide a life of luxury even for the people he has as recovering guests. Only…" she trailed off, knowing this was it. "Only _Bruce_ _Wayne_ can do that."

She had gone over it a million times in her head by now. Of course it was him. How no one had ever seen it before was so unbelievable after she had figured out the truth. On the other hand, before she discovered his identity, Bruce Wayne was honestly one of the last names in her list of possible people behind the mask. And that's why his disguise was so perfect. No one expected a filthy-rich pretty boy to abandon his parties full of scotch and bubblehead models to risk his life in order to protect the city. I mean, why would he?

It was after a long minute of tense silence that the bat finally sighed. The entire time, Harley had stood her ground and refused to break eye contact. No way she was going to lose this one.

Slowly, the bat reached up to undo the latches and braces that held his temporary mask on. When they were all unhooked and unfastened, he pulled it up and over his head, revealing his face to her for the first time.

Despite the cut lower lip and the dark purple on his left cheekbone, he was handsome, for lack of a better word. Well, there were probably many other words that could have been used, but Harley couldn't exactly think at the moment. Handsome was the quickest word that came to mind before it clouded over.

The deep blue eyes were still his most prominent features, and now Harley knew why he tried so hard to keep them hidden. His hair was in thick, dark locks, which contrasted the light tone of his skin. She remembered him being a bit more tan, but losing all that blood hadn't been helpful for him in keeping his color.

She had seen Bruce Wayne a few times on television, usually when he was sponsoring some big charity event or fundraiser of some sort. All morning she had been trying to picture him from those few times she had seen him, but his face didn't quite come to mind.

Now she was glad it hadn't. He probably would have given her an impression of careless and wild, not to mention smart enough to do something for the community only to stay on their good graces. He ran his company from home for the most part, or so she had read, and was never really public, though it was quite known that he was popular with the ladies.

Yes, she was glad none of that came to mind.

Instead, all she could see were the eyes of a man who had no limits when it came to sacrifice and generosity. He wore that dark suit proudly, protecting his identity while cleaning up the streets of Gotham and making it a better place. He was a man who would risk his own life for the city he loved. A man that saw the good in everything, even a stupid girl with a criminal history and in an abusive relationship.

"Now you know," the bat said softly.

She wasn't sure how to take it. Was he happy that he could finally tell his secret to someone? Or was he upset that he couldn't keep it hidden forever?

Harley lifted a hand and drew a few circles in the air with her index finger, pointing at him. She let a smile rise from the corner of her mouth. "Now why would you wanna hide all that from me, huh puddin?"

At her comment, a smile formed on his lips and suddenly she can't breath because it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. There was real happiness in his smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling slightly. The highly anticipated moment was even better than she expected. So many nights she had fallen asleep wondering what it would be like to see him smile, and the moment didn't disappoint in the slightest.

"I keep my face hidden to make sure no one hurts the people I care about," he said simply, the smile toning down but still slightly visible. "Bruce Wayne and the Batman have to remain two different people. Which is why I have to go." Dropping the mask on the bed, he carefully put on the dark polo shirt Alfred had given him. "There are some that might want to know where Bruce Wayne is, and if they notice that he's gone at the same time as the Batman, they might suspicious. I think it'll be a few days before I suit up again, but business meetings are a must."

Harley nodded in understanding, watching as he put his shoes on and fixed his collar in a mirror that hung from the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to catch something and turned to look at the food and medicine Harley had gathered. She was suddenly embarrassed at her pitiful attempt but he turned to look at her next with warmth and tenderness. As he walked to the door, he stopped a few feet from her.

"Thank you."

She frowned. "For what?"

"For taking care of me while I was out."

"I didn't really do anything. All I did was go and get Alfred," she said, almost getting mad at herself for being so pathetic.

"You did more than that. So…thank you."

Harley smiled again. "It's okay. I'm _sure_ that if you were in my position, you would have done the same."

The line was ridiculous and corny and she regretted it the instant it left her lips. But then he's smiling again and she can't help smiling back like an idiot. There's also a funny feeling in her stomach that seemed to get more and more intense the more she looked at him.

"I have to go," he said, breaking eye contact and heading for the door again. "I'll be back in a few hours."

As soon as he was gone and the door was closed behind him, Harley sat on the nearest chair. Her head was spinning and she was out of breath. Maybe finding out the bat's real identity was hitting her harder than she thought.

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Harley pressed a hand firmly to her chest and sighed, closing her eyes.

What the hell was wrong with her?

* * *

 **I want to thank everyone that's taken the time to leave a review or send me a message. The comments are absolutely awesome and really make my day. This is the first time I've written a story like this and having some encouragement definitely helps. Good news is that I know where I'll be taking this story and where it'll end. Bad news is that we're about half way through, since I think I'll only be able to go about twenty chapters with this.**

 **Anyways, leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Happy Holidays everyone! Whatever it is that you celebrate, I hope you're spending it with your loved ones. I absolutely looooove this time of year.**

 **There's been a lot of traveling on my part, since me and my fiance live in one city, my family lives in a another, and fiance's family live someplace else. There's always constant flying, and getting used to a certain cold that I'm just not used to in the northern parts of the country.**

 **Anyways, personal stuff aside, I hope you like this chapter. I've been working on it for what seems like forever now.**

* * *

The bat's face became more familiar as the days passed. Well, actually, it wasn't fair to keep calling him that. The bat had an identity, and it was Bruce Wayne.

 _Bruce Wayne_ 's face became familiar.

It was strange, learning what Gotham's most eligible bachelor was like behind the cameras. The annoying charm and false confidence were replaced by light sarcasm and a constant worry over the safety of the city. If he wasn't being a teenaged smartass, he was being a paranoid, overprotective grandmother.

The media depicted Bruce as a witty, flirty, rich persona that remained a mystery to most. He was only what he wanted to show, and apparently the image he showed, the tiny bit he fed to the public, wasn't even the real him. The women that arrived with him to the fancy galas and expensive parties were models whom he had never met before. The flashy sports cars he used for Gotham to see were bought or rented simply for that reason.

If only they knew he felt much more comfortable and much, much safer in his Batmobile.

"How fast can it go?" she asked him one day while he was fixing it.

"As fast as I want it to go," he said simply, reaching for a wrench to tighten a few bolts on the underside of the car.

"I doubt that," she said teasingly.

He slid from under the car to give her a look, smiling slightly when he saw the huge grin on her face. Shaking his head, he crawled back to the spot he was before as she let out a laugh. It was the third time he had taken the bait, and she was absolutely hysterical. It was just _too_ easy to get under his skin. Lucky for her he was always a good sport about it.

The elevator door suddenly opened to reveal a tired butler in a clean pressed tuxedo. His work around the cave had doubled now that Bruce couldn't move around as much. The reparations he had been doing on the car was the first he had done since his near-death experience. And that was only because he insisted on doing _something_. He argued that doing nothing all day made him feel useless, and having been injured just before him, Harley knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I have brought the two of you some lunch. Surely the idea of food can pull you from work, Master Bruce?"

Alfred set the silver tray filled with food on top of a nearby toolbox. It was one of those that stood four feet tall and held more tools than Harley had ever seen in her life. She quickly hopped over to it, grabbing half of a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

Again, Bruce inched over until he was completely out from under the car. He found his feet slowly, groaning every now and then due to his healing injuries. They wouldn't be healed for a few more days, which was surprisingly fast given how long Harley had taken to heal from hers. She could argue that she had been shot while he hadn't, but the bat had endured a beating, a number of deep cuts, and probably some kind of physical torture. She wasn't too sure, but every time she asked him, he simply waved it off and said it was nothing. The possibilities of what had happened to him were left to her imagination, and she didn't know if the truth, if she ever found out, would be better or worse.

"Ah ah ah!" Alfred said quickly, picking the tray up with lighting speed. He swiped it off the toolbox and away from Bruce's reach just as he was fumbling for a sandwich slice.

"You bring me food that I'm not allowed to eat?" Bruce asked him with a serious face. The bat's expression was just too much for Harley. She burst out laughing and, due to her amazing luck, managed to hit Alfred right in between the eyes with a chunk of ham that came flying out of her mouth.

"Well," said the older man, carefully peeling off the piece of meat from his face. "I would strongly advise you to eat in a cleaner environment, away from motor grease and dirt. In fact, you have no choice!"

Alfred took off to the room, firmly holding the tray in his hands as he stepped over the scattered metal tools. Bruce sighed and looked over at Harley, who was still bright red from embarrassment.

"He won't hold it against you," he told her, smiling. "Unless we make him wait," he added. They both nodded in understanding and quickly followed him back to the room where she slept.

Bruce had only stayed that first night, the one Harley spent in the bathroom covered in blood and crying. After that, with the help of Alfred, he had managed to get to the elevator and leave the cave. He came by every day though, either doing research on something or cleaning his wounds and patching them back up. She watched with gross fascination at the way his wounds looked before and after he cleaned them.

His presence around the cave was something she rather liked. It was much better than being alone all day. Reading and watching television was entertaining, but contact with another human being was a million times better. Especially when each interaction had her discovering something new about the man behind the mask.

Sometimes it was difficult to grasp, though. Was the man who held countless charity events the same as the one who punched her so hard once that she immediately blacked out? Could the man who spoke so charismatically to the press about a new hospital he was funding be the same as the one who stood as firm and solid as a statue in front of her in a council room in Arkham?

It was strange to see multiple people in him. The life of the party was also a silent shadow of Gotham City. Never to be named or seen if it wasn't in a suit. His three-piece Armani helped him fool the public while the armored bat costume helped him stay anonymous.

He would never be hunted by his enemies, but he could also never be thanked by his allies.

The third person in Bruce was the man he became when he was away from either side. With no cameras to deceive and no enemies to fight, the gentle nature and warm character came naturally. His smiles were always sincere and pleasant. And no matter how many times she saw him smile, each one brought a flutter of emotions to her stomach.

But despite all of the mysterious albeit pleasant emotions, she couldn't deny there was a bit of fear mixed in there as well. How long before the three personas inside Bruce began a battle that would consume him? How close was he to losing himself in deceptions? Exactly how much separated him from the clown? At any minute, if he dealt with too much pressure at once, Bruce could crack and fall down a tunnel he would never come back from.

"I want my sandwich," said Bruce, giving Alfred a mock cold stare. Harley smiled as she found a spot on the recliner. For now, the bat was safely in control of his alter egos, and she hoped it would always be that way.

"And you shall have it, now that there is not a speck of dust in sight," Alfred instructed, setting the tray down in front of them on the coffee table. "When you are finished, I'm afraid Gotham needs Bruce Wayne to make an appearance at the Annual Children's Hospital Fundraiser tonight."

"What time is that again?" Bruce asked through a mouthful of tuna sandwich.

"Seven."

"So eight?"

Alfred sighed. "Bruce Wayne did not earn a reputation of arriving early. Or of not making an entrance."

"It's not like I plan it. They kind of just happen."

"You know," said Harley, reaching for a second sandwich piece. "It kinda sounds like you're planning it right now."

Bruce sent her a look and Alfred looked like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. The corner of his mouth was twitching and he began turning red from holding his breath so long.

"I'll let you know when to bring the car around," said Bruce after a moment, downing the glass of juice in a few gulps.

"Very well then, sir," nodded Alfred, becoming serious once again. He took Bruce's words as an opportunity to leave, giving Harley a warm smile on his way out. When he was gone, Bruce sighed and began placing some sandwich pieces on a smaller plate.

"I better go with him," he said quietly.

"Do you have to?" Harley blurted out before she realized she had spoken.

"There might be a few things I have to do before I go," he shrugged. Just as he made it to the door, he paused and turned slightly to look at her. "Why?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, brushing it off with a smile.

"Tell me," he pressed, turning his full attention to her. He met her eyes with an intensity she couldn't hold.

"It's just-" she started, locking down her focus at her half eaten piece of sandwich.

Out of the corner of her eye she could still see him, silent and unmoving. Just like back at the asylum. But now she knew the bat wasn't an unfeeling crimefighter. Taking a deep breath and hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt, Harley looked up at his blue eyes.

"Stay with me?" she asked timidly. "Just until after we're done eating, if you want. It just gets so lonely here."

Bruce stood there for a moment longer with an unreadable expression, studying her. As the seconds crawled by, Harley wished she wouldn't have said anything. When the hell did she decide it was a good idea to humiliate herself? He had much more important things to do than stay and eat a freakin' sandwich with her.

Or maybe he had realized that it was _his_ company she was looking for and not simply company in general.

"You know, I don't remember the last time I sat through a whole movie," he mused, walking back to the center of the room. "You have anything specific you want to watch?"

Harley scrambled to her feet and pounced towards the television. She scanned the area quickly and shoved the first movie she saw into the DVD player. When she backed up into the recliner again, she found Bruce giving her a funny stare. She couldn't be completely sure, but she was almost a hundred percent positive that her face had turned a bright red. In an attempt to distract herself, Harley stuffed another sandwich piece into her mouth and focused on the screen in front of her.

Bruce found a spot on the bed, leaning back into a relaxed position against a few pillows. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, quietly eating as they watched a movie. For the first half hour, Harley couldn't even pay attention to what was happening. She was still trying to figure out how she had gotten so lucky.

They didn't talk much, and even when it was time for him to leave, Harley couldn't find any words. She thanked him for staying and then he was gone. Maybe it would have been better to have a conversation, but what would they have spoken about? She didn't linger on that for too long. The important thing was that he had stayed with her. She smiled as she lied back onto her chair.

 _He stayed._

The issue with a lack of conversation didn't happen the next day when he decided he wanted to have lunch with her again. It caught Harley by surprise when he was the one to show up with two plates of spaghetti and an entire loaf of garlic bread. She was reading a book and looked up to see Bruce walk in with the tray and wearing a fake mustache.

"Would ya like-a some lunch?" he said in a very thick Italian accent, sounding more like Mario and Luigi than the mobsters he took down on the regular.

"Thank you," she said with a laugh, standing to take the tray from him. It was only when she got close to him that she saw there were two plates. When Harley looked up at him in confusion, he shrugged and looked away.

"I was thinking I could watch another movie. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. I don't get much time to do that anymore. Would you mind?"

All Harley could do was smile and shake her head, walking numbly to look for another movie. Again, they ate in silence and only spoke occasionally when one of them had a question. After the movie he picked up their plates, setting them on the silver tray. She was able to open a small conversation about how good the food was, asking him to thank Alfred for her. They both agreed Alfred was an excellent cook after she told him that everything she had eaten since she had arrived was absolutely amazing.

The small conversation was interrupted when his cell phone rang. He ended the phone call quickly and smiled at her, excusing himself from the room. Harley wished he could have stayed longer, but the sadness was replaced with joy when he showed up the next day. And the next. And the one after that.

It seemed the only time he was in the cave was when he ate his lunch with her in the room. Alfred didn't come by as often and news about his wellbeing was brought by the bat on his daily visits.

Because there was no activity outside the room, Harley was instantly drawn to the noise outside her door one night. Her lunch earlier that day with Bruce had been especially funny, considering he tripped and fell all over their ice cream sundaes. But he had left in a hurry after a phone call even before the movie ended.

Harley walked outside to find a very tall figure in black at the computers, leaning over and typing rapidly into the largest keypad. She stepped closer to see that the batmobile was also idling quietly, the purr of the engine standing out against the cave's silence.

"You heading out?" she asked him, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

"There was a robbery. Looks like Penguin is up to his old tricks again," the bat answered, completely oblivious to her fear.

Was he healthy enough to go out again? Shouldn't he wait just a little bit longer? What if he wasn't up to full strength and his enemies still had an upper hand?

"You think you're ready to go back out there?"

"Should be fine," he said, straightening his posture. He moved away from the computers and stretched his arms. "Discomfort is at a minimum and none of the wounds are at a danger of reopening."

"Well, just…" Harley trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it.

She took a few steps forward to look at his suit, which looked as good as new. If it was the same suit he was wearing when he came in that night, she was honestly impressed. The armor looked unscratched and despite it's dark tone, had a certain shine to it.

"Just be careful," she finished finally.

"Always am," the bat said confidently. Harley would have rolled her eyes at his cockiness if she wasn't so concerned.

"Promise me."

The bat stopped stretching and lowered his gaze to meet hers. The look in his eyes was strange, but Harley held her own. It wasn't the same intense stare she was used to, and somehow that made her want to hold it longer.

"Alright," he said quietly. If she wasn't staring at his face, she might not have even heard it.

Harley nodded once, finally lowering her gaze. Just as she saw him turn to get in his car, however, she reached and grasped his hand, keeping him in place. The bat froze, staying exactly where he was. He didn't turn to look at her or even ask why she had stopped him. He simply waited for her to speak.

"You know, bats," she said after a deep breath, "Contrary to what some people say and believe, promises are _not_ meant to be broken. So please don't break yours."

Before he could respond, Harley let go of his hand and practically ran into the room. She didn't know if he looked at her retreating form or if he stayed in place. Or maybe he had immediately blown her off and jumped into his car. It didn't matter. She had gotten her point across.

But what exactly was that? She lay in bed with her eyes wide open, looking up at the ceiling as she tried helplessly to figure it out.

The bat had promised to get back to the cave safely. Wasn't that what he always did anyways? It's not like he tried to get hurt every time he went out. She was sure he tried his best every night to make it back alive and well so that his public Bruce Wayne image wouldn't be compromised. So what had she hoped to change by making him promise? Maybe if he had promised to be careful that last time, maybe he wouldn't have gotten so hurt…

Oh, she was so _stupid_.

Why couldn't she just admit that her life was a huge screwup? She _enjoyed_ messing up her life in the most intricate ways. What other explanation was there?

She had screwed up her life when she chose to follow the clown. She had fallen for the wrong man and it had led her to a life of crime.

And now she was screwed again, but not because she was _starting_ to fall for the bat.

She was screwed because she was already head over heels for him.

* * *

 **I had a few messages on the last chapter but almost no reviews. Don't be shy and leave a comment! I'd love the feedback.**

 **Thanks for reading, and happy holidays!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello! I hope everyone's having a great new year. For me, it's back to work and dealing with responsibilities, but that isn't so bad all the time. It does, however, limit my time to write, which is kind of a bummer. Anyway, thanks for being patient with me, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Where the _hell_ was he?

It had been about four hours and still no sign of the bat. Did he plan on staying out all night? How long would he be able to go before exhaustion from staying up all day and night took over? Didn't he have Bruce Wayne things to do in the morning?

What if he was hurt? What if something happened to him and he couldn't make it back to his car? What if he didn't keep his promise and was out on the streets bleeding out with no one to help him and-

Ugh. Too many questions. She was definitely overreacting.

Harley pressed her thumb and index finger against her closed eyelids and sighed. Sleep had found a way to evade her completely tonight, apparently. There was no way she could relax enough to drift off. She heard each individual ticking sound from the clock on the wall above the bed. Time kept passing and the bat hadn't come back yet.

Surely he kept in contact with Alfred, right? There had to be some kind of back and forth communication between the two, otherwise, the older man wouldn't be able to sleep either. Or was it just her who was wide awake with worry?

How long had it taken Alfred to stop worrying over him? Perhaps he never did. Perhaps it was still a constant nagging in the pit of his stomach, unfailingly nudging the entire time the bat was gone. At least, that's exactly what Harley was feeling.

And figuring out exactly why she was feeling that way was even worse than worrying over where he was. Head over heels for the bat. That's what she was. It had happened out of nowhere and against her best wishes, but now it was too late. How could she make such a huge mistake?

It was a mistake to fall for him. A complete accident. Nothing good could come from it. Harley could speak from experience. Falling for a man she wasn't supposed to was what led to her mess of a life. She had said it once and would keep saying it: Love was what led to disaster.

Or maybe it wasn't love. She was probably just mistaking it for something else. What she had for the bat was eternal gratitude for saving her life. It had to be what gave her a sort of respect for him that she thought was something different. Now that she knew who the man behind the mask was, Harley admired his bravery and relentlessness. He showed up at the sign of any trouble and refused to go down without a fight.

One other thing that had crossed her mind was obsession. Was she obsessing over him? It was highly unlikely, but who was she to decide? Her opinion would obviously be biased. The mental health she claimed to have was compromised. Didn't she consider herself mentally healthy when she decided to throw everything away for the clown? Maybe she was obsessing over the bat and starting to go down a dark path, just like the one before, and similar to that time, wasn't even realizing she was doing it?

Crazy people never knew they were crazy. Harley had seen it time and time again in the months she had spent at Arkham both as a doctor and a patient.

The thoughts of possible obsession and possible insanity were interrupted by the possible sound of tires in the distance. Harley immediately raised her head and turned towards the door, hoping the noise wasn't a product of her imagination. Sure enough, the sound of the Batmobile's signature screeching tires grew louder. He'd finally returned.

As Harley swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand up, she felt a sharp feeling of dread wash over her. What condition would she find the bat in this time? His car had made it back, but what if it was just like the previous time where the bat was only moments away from dying? How fast could Alfred get there to take care of him again?

Pushing those darker feelings aside as best as she could, Harley tiptoed through the dimly-lit room to the door and fumbled for the knob. Grasping firmly yet silently, she pulled the door open and slipped into the shadows of the immense cave. The bat probably had some high-tech stuff in his helmet to spot out objects in the dark, but this wasn't about staying hidden. It was about making sure he was safe and back in the cave free of harm.

And there she went.

Caring again.

The Batmobile was completely quiet, as if no one had been inside it at all. The fresh mud stains on the bumper and sides of the vehicle told otherwise, however. Harley could feel the heat from the engine hitting her face as she grew closer, but its usual purr was gone. Every door remained closed and the bat was nowhere in sight. Had he sent the car back by itself? Or…was he unconscious and bleeding out with no energy to get out and seek help?

Just as she was pulling her hand back to bang on the tinted window, Harley let out a startled yelp when the top of the car suddenly opened up. She pedaled backwards a few steps, craning her neck to look up towards what she thought was the roof of the car.

The bat stood silently through the opening, the boost in height making him seem even more menacing than usual. Not that Harley was scared or anything, but now she remembered that making an entrance was the bat's way. She simply hadn't expected to see him come out of the _top_ of the car. The side doors weren't the only ones that could open like they would on a regular car? How had she never noticed that before? Probably too busy trying to help steal something she wasn't allowed to know about.

The bat jumped off and landed perfectly in front of her, the only sound coming from his black cape as it hit the ground. He still loomed over her, and as Harley glanced up at him, she noticed that he was giving her a strange look.

"Tell me you were _not_ about to hit my car," he said slowly.

Harley wanted to think of something sarcastic to retort, but it suddenly didn't matter. He was back and he was in one piece. Hours of staying up and worrying over him hadn't been a waste because knowing he was here again and away from harm made it somehow all worth it. She stepped forward and had her arms around him before she even knew what she was doing. It was strange to find comfort in his heartbeat when the coldness of his rigid armor radiated anything but warmth.

Harley stayed there for a few seconds before backing away from him. She was sure her face was a bright red, and since there was absolutely nothing she could do about it, her eyes remained glued to the floor.

"Sorry," she murmured quietly. "It's just…nice to know you're back without any major injuries. Last time you went out, ya know…"

"Yes, I remember," the bat answered gravely, still not having moved a single inch. "I can tell you that I'm also glad to have avoided another situation like that."

"Why?" Harley asked quickly and looked at him with wide eyes. "Did those people try to torture you again?"

The bat took a step to the side before walking towards the computers, going around Harley in two long, swift strides. "No, but it could happen at all times. Tonight just wasn't one of those."

Harley breathed a sigh of relief and turned to follow him. She noticed the hatch on the roof of the car close as soon as they stepped away, causing her to wonder if maybe the bat could control it with his utility belt. By the time Harley joined Bruce at the computers, he was already deeply immersed in his own little technological bubble. He had removed his mask and it hung down his back like a hoodie. She watched as his eyes moved along every monitor, absorbing information as fast as he could. His fingers were a blur over the multiple keyboards that never seemed to stop moving.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" she asked him, her hands resting on the back of his chair.

"Killer Croc's been disappearing without a trace after his heists. He completely vanished after his last run and I'm trying to figure out how he's doing it."

Harley thought for a moment. "Sewers?"

"No," the bat said with a shake of his head. "The sensors I put along some of underground tunnels haven't reported unusual activity. I checked them myself a few hours ago just to be sure."

Looking up at one of the screens, Harley smiled when she recognized the area the bat was focusing on. It was a few miles down from the docks but still along the shallow beach.

"He's using new tunnels that lead into the city."

"I thought so at first, but the amount of time it would take him to carve through solid limestone and-"

"He wouldn't have to," she said slowly, trying to remember the details. "They were already carved out. Well, most of the way, anyways."

Bruce turned to look at her. "That would explain why the blueprints don't show anything on the building's original plans. Who carved them out?"

"Freeze did. He wanted to build a chain of water-filled tunnels under Gotham so that he could freeze it from the inside out. Penguin was helping him, but then something happened and they broke their alliance, so the tunnels were never finished. Maybe Croc found a way to finish them up and use them."

Bruce brought his hand up and stroked his chin a few times. "So Killer Croc discovers near-finished tunnels, finds a way to complete them, and is now using them to commit robberies all over Gotham and disappear like a ghost. And all of that in an effort to…" he trailed off, spinning in his chair and typing madly into the keyboards again.

"In an effort to what?"

"To…practice."

Harley almost reached out to smack the back of his head but ultimately decided against it. His sarcasm probably wasn't on purpose anyways, simply a product of his lack of attention in the conversation now. She waited patiently as he pulled up a large image on screen with a few paragraphs underneath it, along with some sort of advertisement. The first was a military schedule of some sort, showing scribbled details in tiny handwriting that she couldn't quite make out. The second was a flier of promotion for the Gotham museum.

"The President will be arriving next week at an annual convention at City Council," he said, pointing at the first picture. "He has plans to speak with the mayor about a number of things regarding Gotham's future."

"Croc wants to kidnap the President?"

"Or weapons," sighed the bat, settling into his chair and leaning his head back. Bruce closed his eyes and let out a yawn, proof that even the Dark Knight grew tired eventually. Harley was still behind his chair and stared at his unmoving face, scanning every detail from his forehead to his chin. "The kind of firepower that travels with the President is something to consider. Everyone knows about the Secret Service, but not many know about the tank and the van full of different ammunitions that stay near in case the President needs to be rescued."

Made sense. Everyone is planning to kidnap the President but no ever truly targeted the men and women who protected him. Their fancy guns and bulletproof vests would be no match for a beast like Killer Croc, and he'd take all of their weapons to use them on Gotham later. Or to sell them.

"You sure he's going to be there?"

"That's my theory. It's a definite hotspot and I'm expecting more than just Killer Croc to show up."

Harley nodded in understanding and suddenly remembered the second picture. "What's with that one?" she asked him.

Bruce opened his eyes to see what she was referring to. "The Gotham Museum is going to be hosting some of the pieces from the Museum of Cairo," he informed, closing his eyes again. "Catwoman's mentioned more than once that I should watch over the President's visit to make sure nothing happens, but I think she plans on stealing a jeweled cat statue from the museum that same night while I'm on the other side of the city."

"Catwoman?" Harley asked with a frown.

"Yea. She's been reminding me about the convention, almost too frequently. Enough to make me suspicious, anyway. Tonight alone she mentioned it twice."

Harley stared at Bruce in disbelief, refusing to accept the fact that he found nothing wrong in his response. She had heard some time back from unreliable sources that the cat burglar was only a thief for the thrill of it. Apparently she stole artifacts that "belonged" to someone else and returned them to the rightful owners, never keeping anything for herself. Did that mean she wasn't a criminal in the bat's eyes? Is that why he chose to leave Harley in this stupid cave all by herself while he went out with Catwoman? He was having the time of his life with some _skank_ who dressed in skintight latex when he should have been here with Harley so that she wouldn't stay up all night and worry over him and-

No.

That's not how things were supposed to be. There was no reason Harley should be as mad as she was. No reason for her to be out of breath and clenching the chair so hard that Bruce was looking at her funny, having taken notice of her change in demeanor. Bruce with his big blue eyes and square jaw and dark hair and _stupid_ face. So clueless for someone who claimed to be the World's Greatest Detective.

It would have been too much for her to explain everything to him. It was going to be even harder to try and explain it to herself, but that would definitely be less degrading. Without a word, Harley let go of the chair, leaving a confused Bruce behind and marching into her room, practically slamming the door shut.

The feeling of physically hitting something wasn't enough. She wanted to grab something very fragile and expensive and useless and shatter it to a million pieces. Maybe it would help calm her down. She knew violence would help her right now, but it'd be pointless as a long term solution. Damaging something could be soothing for a while, but she would hate herself for it the next day. Pacing was the only other thing she could think of.

Why the hell was she helping that jerk anyways? He obviously didn't need her. He would have found out about the other tunnels eventually. Either that or _Catwoman_ would tell him about them. She'd tell him about the tunnels and then about something else that might make him smile. Then she'd get closer and smile back and put a hand on his shoulder as she leaned up closer to him and-

Okay. Calm down. Deep breaths.

It took a few moments of walking back and forth for her breathing to slow down. As the anger drained, however, Harley's thoughts pulled her from fury to helplessness. There was no doubt about it now.

She _was_ obsessed.

Not in the same way she had been for the clown, but it was there. Maybe she couldn't admit it to herself before, but it was too obvious not to see it. Whether it was due to their time together over the past few months or because her mind was simply replacing the Joker, it didn't matter. Her emotions were compromised and nothing could change that.

And why did it hurt so much? Was it because she knew Bruce was capable of caring? It was a characteristic that didn't fit with the Joker, no matter how much she had tried to change him. " _Oh, it's not his fault,"_ she would tell herself, denying his claims of feeling sick of her. _"He'll come around. He has to."_

But that wasn't the case anymore. Bruce was a caring human being that chose what to do with his emotions. He had the ability to care and just…didn't.

At least not about her.

The pain she could feel in her chest as she laid down was beyond overwhelming. The soft pillows around her provided no comfort at all. She was too busy focusing on the fresh wound inside her ribcage, stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, and much more than she could have imagined. It combined with an empty feeling at the pit of her stomach, the familiar lump in her throat, and the stinging in her eyes from unshed tears.

Maybe that's why the bat refused to get close to anyone. Maybe he'd learned long ago that caring for someone who didn't care for you back was painful. It felt like the world was falling apart and all you had was a roll of tape and a bottle of glue. The only thing guaranteed from caring about someone else was unimaginable pain. Sooner or later, it happened.

Ha.

And she thought getting shot hurt…

* * *

 **I looooved the reviews and messages that came in for the last chapter. Through them, however, the idea for a chapter in Bruce's perspective keeps coming up. Let me tell you why I'm iffy on that:**

 **I understand that Harley is very out of character. I do that a lot because that's just how I imagine this story. But, butchering Batman's character is a whole different story. You guys would NEVER forgive me if I did something that was just totally off that I didn't catch and it made you guys upset. Even expressing this fear to some, they still encourage me to try. So I guess my question is...what exactly would you want to see in a chapter from his perspective? I can probably manage a few concepts without messing too much with his character, but others could be a little too much. I think having a chapter on his thoughts would be informative, but now you guys know my fears on that.**

 **Leave me a review with your thoughts, or send me a PM if you feel it's going to be more of a back-and-forth conversation. If you're a guest...well then I guess just leave a review lol.**

 **Thanks so much for reading! Have a good rest of the week!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone! I hope you guys have been doing awesome on the start of this year. Mine's been going pretty well, but I never seem to be NOT busy. Having said that, it's always great to escape the real world for a bit and write on my laptop. This chapter was particularly hard to write in the beginning for some reason, and although it's a shorter chapter than what I'm used to putting out, I had some fun with it towards the end. You'll see why.**

 **Hope you like it!**

* * *

Oh dear God she was such an _idiot_.

Why in the hell couldn't she keep her emotions to herself? Why did they have to dictate how she lived her life? She should have learned from the first time.

The past hour had been the same, for the most part. It consisted of Harley lying in bed looking up at the ceiling and wondering how she got to this point in her life. The night before, just as she felt sleep's embrace, she remembered wanting to hate Bruce Wayne. She wanted to hate him for being so dumb and clueless and for choosing Catwoman over her.

But she couldn't hate him.

Not when he had done so much for her. How could she hate the man who had saved her life and given her a place to stay all this time as she recovered? He had given her a choice to help him out, save innocent lives, and then leave Gotham on a clean slate to start a new life. That was way more than anyone had done for her in as long as she could remember. The last people to be that honest with her were her parents. People that acted on generosity and didn't expect anything in return. Well, the bat wanted information, but she had the choice to give it up or not. After she decided to cooperate, he began trusting her. Now, he trusted her with his identity and even let her roam around the cave now. He fed her and clothed her and kept her safe. How could she hate him?

Hate, she realized, was the only way she'd push out all the other feelings. It was the only way she'd get over her obsession for the bat. For Bruce Wayne. It didn't matter which side she was obsessed with. He was the same man and either way was going to torture her. The end result would be the same. Whether she wanted to or not, her obsession would grow and the pain would be that much greater when it inevitably arrived. She'd end up in tears and heartbreak.

And she was off to a good start.

Bruce was probably also wondering what had come over her the night before. It was embarrassing how obvious she thought she had been, but it only made it more infuriating to know that even after all of that, he still had no clue what her reason for storming out was. After a lot of convincing, Harley told herself that the bat had more important things to worry about. If he wasn't so caught up on trying to save the city, he probably would have figured it out. It's not like the first thing that came to mind was that she was jealous over a woman she hadn't seen in months.

The memory of her shameful actions were what finally pushed Harley to get out of bed. The bat was her savior, for lack of a better term. He took her away from harm and even operated on her so she'd survive. The least he deserved was an apology.

The cave was empty when Harley walked out, almost every light completely off. She could never tell if it was night or day unless she was looking at a clock. There wasn't a single window and the only light came from the huge computer screens or the long bulbs that shot out fluorescent lights. At the moment, only two were on, leaving the place covered in shadows and darkness.

The third bulb, this one much dimmer than the first two, hung just above the elevator door. Harley's curiosity always ate away at her, asking her what lay either above or below. She didn't dare go near it though, just out of respect that they never invited her up. Even after knowing that Bruce Wayne was behind the mask, Harley never left the cave. Besides, even if she wanted to enter and discover what lay beyond, the scanner that activated the lift was for a handprint. Only the bat's hand opened it besides Alfred's.

So what was she going to do now? She had to stay busy somehow until the bat returned so she could apologize. Maybe she could…clean her room? That was a good idea. She would tidy it up and leave it spotless so that when he got back, the room would be impeccable.

And empty.

That's what she had to do. She had to leave. Her wound was all but healed except for a minor discomfort here and there. What was the point in staying any longer? Her plans were to leave Gotham eventually, right?

Helping the bat was no longer necessary. Her half of the deal was done. Better not extend it for longer than it was supposed to run because otherwise it would become a job, and jobs had a tendency to anchor people to places. Then she'd never leave that wretched city. And that's exactly what she wanted. She wanted to leave…right?

Cleaning her room was easy. Make the bed and pick up any scattered albums she might have left on the floor in her haste to look for a specific one. It was never as difficult as when she was a little kid. When she was finished, finding a way to let Bruce know she was leaving was the hard part.

She couldn't wait for him. Waiting to apologize was one thing. Waiting to tell him that she was leaving was a whole different thing. Maybe she could…write him a letter!

Once the paper and pencil were in front of her on the makeshift desk, Harley's mind went blank. It felt wrong to say everything through paper, but there was absolutely no way she'd be able to do it in person without being an emotional wreck. She might even start losing it just thinking about what she'd put in the letter. She had to start with the simple things.

Harley had to thank him for the hospitality, obviously. And for the amazing food. And also for sharing his secret with her. Of course, it was kind of Alfred's fault and she had also figured it out without him telling her, but he never threatened to kill her or anything if she told anyone. Should she include something that promised she'd never reveal his secret? Maybe that was a given. Or not. Just to be sure, Harley made a mental note to squeeze it in somewhere.

 _Dear Bats_ , she wrote, and then crumpled the paper. That was much too informal. _Dear Bruce_ , she started again before throwing that out too. No need for the word 'Dear.' That's actually what she was trying to get away from. _Bruce, It's been a nice few months...but I feel I need to move on_.

Okay, scratch that. Ugh. She was horrible at this.

Her thoughts and feelings were somehow more difficult to put on paper than she thought. Reading the letter over in her head, the entire thing sounded painfully confusing. The reason for that was probably because she was confused herself. Not everything translated so concretely.

Did she still want to leave Gotham? That was the question that kept coming back up every few seconds. Did she want to leave this place forever and never look back?

Harley sighed when she realized the answer. The fact was… _No_ …she no longer wished to escape. She would stay in Gotham if she had to.

In the past few weeks, she had been exposed to generosity and kindness like she'd never experienced before. The good side of people had seen the light again, and it was absolutely wonderful. Leaving the man who made it all possible again was absurd. It went against every instinct in her body, but that's how it had to be. She had to get far away from Bruce Wayne.

It was getting awfully repetitive to keep telling herself the same thing. Falling for the wrong man had screwed her up pretty bad the first time. The second time was going to be just as bad, if not worse. She couldn't bear to live through it again. It would tear her apart this time.

Doing the best with the letter, which ended up being a few pages long, Harley folded them into a neat little stack. She found a short length of yarn and tied a pretty bow around them, keeping the written confessions all in place. The pages consisted of her incessant rambling and pointless explaining. She didn't even proof-read her final work, simply folding the pages over to avoid judging her words too harshly. She feared that if she read them over again, the whole thing might just end up in the trashcan. In the end, she felt like they explained her feelings perfectly, however jumbled they seemed. If they were confusing, then it was time for Bruce to really use those detective skills of his.

Harley placed the papers on the bat's desk. There was no way he was going to miss it there. He'd read it when he was ready, and hopefully by then Harley would be far away. She wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes after he read some of the things she had written.

When she found a good spot to leave them in, Harley debated on whether or not she should take anything with her. After a few seconds, she decided that only the clothes on her back would come with her. It would be wrong to take anything that wasn't hers. She'd leave all the music and movies and only take her Ipod. It was his one real present for her. She'd have to figure out what to eat, what to wear, and where to sleep as she went along.

The end of the cave, opposite to where all of the bat's things were, had to have an exit, right? Eventually she'd find an opening to the outside world if she walked far enough. All she had to do was hope that after so many weeks of being absent, the ones who were looking for her either thought that she was dead somehow or that she already skipped town. Maybe the coast would be clear for one night so that she could leave the city.

Just as she was making her way deeper into the cave, a sound to her left caught her attention. It was a voice, though it wasn't actually words that were audible. Harley stayed completely silent until she heard it again. It sounded like someone was grunting.

Had Bruce been here the whole time? Or had he recently gotten back? Maybe he had arrived while she was busy pouring her heart out into a few pieces of paper.

Turning towards the noise, Harley stepped closer to see what Bruce was doing. The cave got darker as she walked further, surrounding her in a shroud of pitch black. She could only barely make out the figure in front of her now.

He had his back to her, hauling what seemed to be a motorcycle. Harley hadn't heard the Batmobile, so it made sense he was on a bike and not the car. She could recall seeing the bat use it maybe once or twice, depending on if his enemies needed to be chased through tunnels or narrow alleys that the Batmobile couldn't get through. If she remembered correctly, that thing had some power to its engine too. At the moment, however, the engine was dead and the only sound came from Bruce as he grunted in his attempts to pull it along.

When he got close enough for some of the light to hit him, Harley saw that the bike was definitely high-tech. And it also looked like something Bruce would design. It just had that _look_.

But the colors were off.

They were too bright. Not his usual dark shades.

Bruce, on the other hand, had somehow lost a lot of weight. His body was lean and still fit but he wasn't packing as much muscle. That was what threw the first red flag for Harley. And he was probably trying on a new costume. But was it new? She could have sworn she had seen it before. Something about it seemed oddly familiar…

Second red flag. Not good.

"Bruce?" she called out, hoping he'd shed some light on her confusion. She was already struggling to understand her feelings. She didn't need to add anything else to that list.

He froze, long enough to throw up the third red flag. Obviously something was _very_ wrong. Harley tried to go over a million scenarios in her head in the short seconds she had before something else happened. The probability that it was a common thief who had somehow gotten into the cave to steal something was incredibly small. There was no way this person was just going to feel exposed after being caught and turn around to run away. Especially since she already recognized him. And it was definitely not Bruce. Or Alfred.

The minute he turned around, Harley knew she was in trouble. He was a boy, probably around sixteen now, but he was much taller than she remembered him, and now also way taller than her. Way to go, genetics.

Way to help her out here.

He stayed completely still, but his body was on high alert and his eyes were locked on to hers. Exactly opposite of what she was hoping for. Not like she expected a warm hello or anything, but instant combat mode could only be bad for her. She still wasn't a hundred percent healthwise, and the possibility of irritating her wound was scary.

His body was still, just like a statue. Almost the way Bruce was when he was in his suit, but he was also glancing down at her hands to check for weapons.

He took one step forward carefully, his knees bending as he prepared to lunge at her. She knew the stance all too well, and it was _not_ good. There would be no time to talk herself out of this. Her only hope was that the bat was in the cave as well so that he could save her. If she hadn't heard this guy come in, maybe Bruce had also come in unnoticed.

"Bruce!" Harley cried into the darkness, backing away from the other man slowly. "Bruce!"

There was no point. The bat would have rushed to her as soon as he heard the anguish in her voice. Maybe he didn't care about her personal feelings but he had proved more than once that he would do anything to keep her physically safe. The fact that he wasn't here already meant he wasn't in the cave at all. He wasn't coming to save her.

She was all alone.

Resigning herself to her fate, Harley kept her eyes on her enemy and adopted a defensive stance. Maybe she could hold him off until he realized she wasn't trying to hurt him. Maybe he wouldn't be so intent on trying to knock her unconscious and haul her off to Arkham. The chances of that, however, were incredibly slim. If she wanted him to listen, she was going to have to keep him off and make sure he stayed down.

Who would win in a one-on-one fight between Harley Quinn and the mighty Robin?

Well, it was time to find out.

* * *

 **I had a few reviews and two conversations through PM, which was a huge help for figuring out what I'd do with a Bruce-perspective chapter. I'd really love a little more feedback, so please feel free to let me know your thoughts about that. Or leave your thoughts on something else!**

 **Thanks so much for reading, everyone. Have a nice weekend!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Tuesday! it's not a Monday, so it's not so bad, but I still need my coffee because otherwise I'm very susceptible to tearing someone's head off. Anyways, life is busy, I have little time...you know. The usual. Thanks so much for being patient though, and I love the fact that I'm still getting follows and favorites. You guys make my day sometimes.**

 **Back to where we left off! I really hope you guys like this chapter.**

* * *

Harley tried to breathe deeply a few times before the physical conflict started. It was definitely going to be a challenge trying to fight him off, but there was no other way. Would she manage? The only exercise she had done after her gunshot wound was walking around the cave. To say that Harley was out of shape would be a huge understatement. There was no telling if she could last longer than ten seconds in a fight versus the Dark Knight's most skilled sidekick.

As they began to circle each other, Harley caught the glints of green, red, and gold that shined off his suit whenever the light hit him. She could see the muscles in his shoulders coiled up, ready to spring. Another thing she noticed was that his suit had a few scuff marks on it and that he looked a bit worn out. Unlike Bruce's mask, Robin's disguise showed a lot more of his face. There was bruising on his cheek that caused that half of his face to swell up with a dark color. Sometime earlier tonight, he had already fought someone and it had taken a slight toll. It might end up working in her favor.

The last time Harley had seen Robin, he was slightly shorter than her and a lot slimmer. Thanks to the training the bat gave him, he never had an issue holding his own in a fight, but now he had size to his advantage as well. The beginnings of a larger build were starting to show. His shoulders were starting to square off and his arms were more defined. Although he was still dressed in his classic colors, the suit had a few modifications on it. Harley wouldn't be surprised if it was a new suit altogether, seeing as to how much the boy had grown.

"Repeat what you said," he said suddenly, his voice low but distinct. He had his eyes focused on her but Harley could see him inching towards her already. She spared a split second to glance down and saw that he was slowly reaching for his utility belt.

"I-I can explain why I'm here," she stammered, taking a step back.

"That's not what I asked," growled Robin with a frown. "I want you to repeat what you said."

"I didn't say anything," Harley said, wondering why it mattered. What _did_ she say? The only thing she had opened her mouth for was to call for the bat.

But she had used his real name.

"I was just hoping he could help me out," she added quickly. "I d-don't want to cause any p-problems since obviously you didn't know I was here, ya know?"

Robin stopped his advance and straightened his posture. The frown on his face deepened but his body seemed to relax, apparently not seeing her as a threat anymore. Good. Harley stayed the way she was, just in case it was a trap, but hopefully he had doubts and that was something she could definitely work with.

"Who are you?" he asked her after a moment.

Now it was Harley's turn to frown. Didn't he recognize her? He had taken her to Arkham more than once, sometimes by himself. There were a few times when she had gotten caught and the clown had escaped, so the bat took chase while Robin drove her to the asylum. It's not like they were friends or anything, but they were nowhere near being strangers.

"I'm…Harley Quinn," she said hesitantly. "You…don't remember me?"

Robin tilted his head to one side, deep in thought though his eyes never left her. Harley stood there awkwardly and still very confused as to why he had to study her. Her response came when the boy's eyes suddenly went wide with astonishment.

Using his mysterious shock as an opportunity, Harley turned and bolted towards the center of the room. The big red button on the computer keyboard had popped into mind and she intended on slamming her hand on it. If the bat was out of the cave, then maybe Alfred could come to her rescue.

She had just spotted the light coming from the large monitor screen when she was tackled from the side and thrown to the ground. There was _no_ way Robin could move that fast. Harley scrambled to her feet as fast as she could and looked up to see another friendly- or not so friendly- face glaring back at her. Judging by the fierce scowl on the girl's face, she definitely wasn't going to be friendly, but at least she was familiar.

"Where to in such a hurry?" Batgirl asked through ragged breaths.

The young woman was already on her feet and ready to fight. Her black and purple suit was also dirty and there were a few rips along the knees and elbows, but the damage wasn't done when she tackled Harley. Both her and Robin had run into trouble that night together and had managed to escape, but not before getting roughed up.

Harley spun quickly when the sound of footsteps reached her ears, ready to fight off a third guest. It turned out to be Robin, stepping closer to join them although he didn't look so ready to attack anymore. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he was still studying her.

Using the slight distraction, Batgirl was on her in less than a second. Harley let out a cry of pain as her arm was twisted behind her back, bringing her to her knees. She shut her eyes and bit on the inside of her cheek to keep the tears down. After a few seconds of struggling, Harley decided it was best to stop moving entirely. Batgirl only twisted her arm higher every time Harley tried to break free.

"WHO ARE YOU?" Batgirl shouted into her ear, causing Harley to flinch.

She wanted to answer, to scream that it was all a big misunderstanding, but the pain was too much. Instead of saying something coherent, she let out another cry as soon as she opened her mouth. The sound only seemed to enrage Batgirl even more.

"Who are you?" she asked again through a hiss, putting more pressure on Harley's arm. "What are you doing here, huh? How did you find this place?"

Harley Quinn. Her name was Harley Quinn. She was here to recover after being shot by her psychotic ex. She didn't find this place, she was brought. By the bat.

Who for some reason found it _really_ great to be absent throughout all of this.

Whether it was out of pure luck or some divine being that Harley didn't believe in granting her deepest desire, the sound of the elevator rang throughout the cave. All three of them turned to look at the door, with Batgirl holding Harley's arm behind her back and Robin standing a few feet away. It must have been quite the sight.

After the longest six seconds of Harley's life, the elevator door finally opened to reveal a smiling Alfred, accompanied by Bruce in a casual business suit. He seemed relaxed and in a good mood, apparently having told some sort of joke and making Alfred chuckle. If she wasn't so glad to be rescued, Harley might have been mad that he was having such a good time while she was in pain.

Both of their expressions changed in a split second when they saw what lay before them. Bruce's face became stone, hardening its features into what Harley guessed was what always lay behind the mask. Cold, unfeeling, and authoritative. And it was with that voice that he spoke.

"Let her go."

"What the hell is going on here?" Batgirl protested, her frown still set. "Who is she?"

Robin stepped forward and calmly placed a hand on Batgirl's shoulder, causing her to turn slightly. She never took her eyes off Bruce but her new stance showed she was listening to the younger boy.

"It's…Harley Quinn."

Batgirl finally looked at him, but only to make sure he wasn't joking. When she realized he wasn't, she turned her attention back to Bruce. If she was still angry, it wasn't stronger than the feelings of confusion she was now experiencing.

"Harley Quinn?" she asked Bruce in surprise.

The bat simply stared back at her and said nothing. He hadn't moved from where he was, and neither had Alfred. Except for the command he had given Batgirl, Bruce had made no effort to help Harley escape from Batgirl's hold.

"What is she doing _here_?" she asked again, and then seemed to realize something else. "What is she doing… _alive_?"

Now it was Harley's turn to feel infinitely confused on what was going on. What did Batgirl mean by that?

"She's been here the entire time?" Robin said then, taking his hand off Batgirl's shoulder and walking towards Bruce. "Is that why you wanted me away?"

"The Titans needed you," Bruce answered evenly.

"But it worked all too perfectly in this occasion, didn't it?"

"Let her go," said Bruce again, looking at Batgirl.

The young woman groaned but finally complied, lowering her grip to Harley's elbow and bringing her up to her feet. With a shove, Batgirl pushed Harley away from her towards Bruce. Harley, after moving her arm a few times to get the stiffness out of the joints, joined Batgirl and Robin in staring at the bat.

"This is why I never received a single call to come help," mused Batgirl bitterly.

"Your studies are important."

"And you _always_ seem to have the answers for everything, right?" she spat. "You had the perfect excuses to make sure we didn't come around and you could hide her here."

"Was it you?" Robin asked him, crossing his arms over his chest again. "Did _you_ fake her death?"

The bat nodded once. "I had to make sure no one would look for her."

"The body?"

"Murdered prostitute from the Upper East side. Dead before I arrived. There was nothing I could have done. Orphan from Metropolis. She had no one."

"Her killer?"

"Flipped his car when I was giving chase. Caught flames and there wasn't much I could do for him either."

Harley's head started to spin, unable to grasp all of the information that was being thrown her way. What the hell was going on? What were Batgirl and Robin talking about?

"Bruce, what's going on?"

"And then there's the fact that she knows who you are," finished Batgirl, although now she sounded more surprised than angry. "How did _that_ happen?"

"I believe that was my fault," said Alfred, speaking for the first time. "It was a slip up on my behalf that gave Miss Quinn enough information to deduce Master Wayne's identity by herself."

"She can be trusted," Bruce told them, walking up to Harley and examining her arm.

"I bet she can," quipped Batgirl, raising an eyebrow.

Bruce sent her a look that shut her right up, but she kept the frown. Robin, on the other hand, reached up with one hand and pulled his tiny mask off.

"Well," he said, raising his arms and stretching. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had a long night and I need to get this suit off."

Bruce only stared with mild astonishment while Batgirl looked on with an expression of pure horror. Harley was ready to bet money that neither of them were expecting Robin to take his mask off and reveal his identity to her so quickly. Alfred was the only one to seem unfazed by it.

Harley looked at Robin's face, realizing she'd seen him before a while back. He had shown up with Bruce to a charity event in downtown Gotham. Of course, back then he was much smaller. He was a boy adopted by Bruce Wayne after his parents had lost their lives and he was left with nothing. It was shortly after that when Gotham started seeing Robin join the bat in his fight against crime. Perhaps no one else noticed it, just like Harley, but now that she knew who they were, it made a lot of sense.

Richard Grayson. That was the name she had seen on television that day. She had always wondered why Robin wore such a small mask compared to the Batman's, but now she realized that it covered much more than she gave credit for. It didn't hide his thick black hair, but the tiny mask somehow made it very difficult to tell it was Grayson behind the disguise.

" _Robin_!" cried Batgirl, rushing towards him in an attempt to block him from view.

"Relax," he told her, putting his hands up to lightly push her away. "She's been here for a long time without putting anyone in danger. I recall that Harley Quinn was turning a new leaf while she was at Arkham. Maybe she continued that and is totally changed by now. Besides, if _Alfred_ trusts her, then so do I."

"If I tell you I trust her, it's debatable, but if Alfred trusts her, then it's alright?" asked Bruce.

Robin shrugged, sitting on the chair in front of all the computers. "That's the way things work around here."

Harley couldn't help the smile from forming on her face. Bruce seemed so serious all the time, and even though Richard was taking after him, at least he held on to some of his humor. It even seemed to bring some of it out of Bruce.

"I guess you're right about that," Batgirl said slowly, reaching up to carefully remove her cowl. The flow of red hair belonged to a beautiful young woman with pale, clear skin. Much clearer than anyone at that age was supposed to have. Harley would have guessed she was about twenty years old. She didn't have to do much guessing on the name, however, because the girl was also someone she had seen before.

"Barbara Gordon," she said, stretching her hand out for Harley to shake. "Sorry about earlier. I just…haven't been in the cave in a while and I'm not as trusting as Dick. And it would have been helpful to, you know, maybe be in the loop with things like this." She shot Bruce a look with the final comment but otherwise offered Harley a friendly smile. Well, as friendly as a former enemy could muster anyways. It was something Harley couldn't blame her for.

Taking a deep breath, Harley shook Barbara's hand and gave her a hesitant smile. It was strange to officially meet the people she had once tried to kill to gain the clown's favor.

"Now that everyone's introduced," Bruce spoke up, looking around at everyone. "I think we all need some filling in."

Dick stood up with a single nod of his head, walking towards them again and standing in front of Bruce. Barbara turned her full attention towards Bruce and stood patiently, waiting for him to speak. Harley, upon seeing the others, did the same, raising her head to look at the bat in the blue button-up and black tie.

Alfred did nothing of the sort and instead walked towards the elevator again, pressing his hand on the scanner. He turned his neck and smiled at them.

"I shall get Master Wayne some water. Something tells me there's going to be a lot of explaining."

* * *

 **Robin AND Batgirl! It's one more character to butcher, since I don't really know too much about her, but I thought it'd be fun. Leave me a review and let me know what you guys think.**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Good morning everyone! I hope you've all had a nice week so far. It looks like I'll finally be getting over my cold today, so I'm in a pretty good mood. No work today because of my doctor's note that let's me stay home one more day, so I was able to finish this chapter up.**

 **For the most part, I think I got a pretty good reaction from having Robin and Batgirl join the story. It was an iffy one for me, but I'm really glad it worked out. Here's a little more of them.**

 **Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

"Batgirl, you've got one on your six!"

"I see him."

"He's getting closer…"

"I said I see him!"

"Batgirl!"

At the last possible second, Robin dove in and tackled the goon away from Batgirl, getting up quickly to deliver a final kick. The man gave a grunt and then went completely silent.

"You're welcome," Robin said with a smirk.

Batgirl stepped towards him and shoved him away roughly. "I told you I had him!"

"You mean you had him chosen to be the one to kill you? I just saved your life. You _owe_ me."

"I don't owe you _anything_. It doesn't count if I was never in any real danger."

"Does to!"

"Does not!"

"Alright, you two," Harley said through the microphone, pulling them out of their argument. "It looks like you have more company. Three coming in from the right, heavily armed."

Robin picked up his staff and spun it a few times. "Only three? Piece of cake."

" _Heavily armed_ ," she reminded him.

"Yea, I heard," he mumbled, taking cover behind a car with Batgirl at his heels.

Harley watched through the traffic cams as Batgirl and Robin easily took the men out, dropping them before the criminals even knew what hit them. She clicked through a few more of the cameras and didn't see any more threats. It was a sight that made her smile.

One more night where the team would be coming home safe and sound.

"Cuff 'em and get outta there," Harley told them when she heard the police scanner go off. "You'll have Gotham PD in the area in less than two minutes."

It was almost as if the words triggered a switch that caused the two of them to disappear into thin air. They slipped into the shadows so quickly and silently that it seemed almost natural for humans to be able to do that. The only thing that gave them away was the sound of their motorcycles as they sped away towards the sewers of the canal. A secret entrance near one of the openings would lead straight back to the cave where Harley was waiting.

Her smile widened as she leaned back into the chair, closing her eyes to rest them from the harsh light that came off the huge screens. It was the third mission in less than a week that they'd been able to pull off without the bat. He was away on a business trip, leaving the crime fighting to them.

She missed him, to say the least.

His presence, whether he was in a good mood or not, brought a certain atmosphere to the cave that was difficult to replicate. Lately he had been in a foul mood, but it was mostly because there had been some problems with the company and he was going to have to leave the city more than once. He hated leaving Gotham unprotected.

Of course, that's where Batgirl and Robin came in. They put themselves through intense training on the last few days the bat was in the city, preparing themselves for the moment when they were left alone to care for it. The bat had insisted that they call him in case of any emergency, but up until then, there was no need for it. Everything was under control.

Seeing as to how hard Batgirl and Robin had to try to make sure Gotham didn't 'plunge into eternal darkness' (as so dramatically put by Robin in his attempt to mock Bruce), Harley decided she would help. Physical exertion like the kind the others were doing was out of the question, but being the eyes and ears was immensely helpful. After a few lessons from Batgirl on how to use the huge computers, Harley helped them on every mission. It took almost no time for her to learn to hack into the city's cameras or the police files to look up information in case they needed to follow a lead.

Both Dick and Barbara had come to accept her as a fellow team member. Before Bruce had left, both regarded her in a friendly manner but she still felt like they were holding back. She guessed it was probably because they were getting used to not worrying about her trying to kill them. No matter how many times she promised she wouldn't, they never seemed to shake out of it.

It all changed when the bat left Gotham. Something about having to rely on her to keep them alive seemed to do the trick. It also helped that her aid got them out of some tight spots once or twice. Dick had warmed up to her first, but Barbara wasn't far behind. Soon, Harley was able to talk to them without fear of being ignored or challenged when she tried to help out from her chair in the cave.

The sound of motorcycles grew closer as the lights got brighter from one of the tunnels, signaling their return. They sped into the cave and parked side by side, taking their helmets off almost in unison.

"Do you guys practice that while I'm gone, or does it just happen naturally?" she teased.

Robin shrugged. "What can I say? She likes to copy me."

Batgirl wasted no time in taking a swipe at the back of his head, eliciting a cry of pain from him. The conflict didn't get past that, though, as Batgirl decided to walk towards Harley and remove her mask. Harley received her with a hug, one that was warmly reciprocated. Robin was next, also returning her hug before he found a chair and sank into it with a deep sigh.

"Thanks for the help," he breathed, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"It was nothin,' really. I just watched and made sure you didn't die," she smiled.

"Well, making sure we don't die is appreciated," Barbara finished, removing her cape and throwing it into a hamper against the wall. There was mud all over the base of the cape and a long gash ran vertical on the right side. Alfred was going to be upset.

"You guys wanna go for a round?" asked Harley, holding up a board game. They usually snuck a game or two in after the night's patrol.

"Wish I could, but I have an exam tomorrow and I need some sleep," Barbara told her with an apologetic look.

"Yea, I think I'm gonna get some rest too," said Robin. "My back is killing me."

"Oh," pouted Harley, slightly disappointed. She knew they needed to recover and that she couldn't force them to stay, but she hated being alone.

"We'll play tomorrow," offered Robin, flashing her a tired grin. "All of us. Bruce gets here in the afternoon and he owes us a game."

Harley's smile was back on her face in an instant. _Bruce was coming home_. Back in Gotham and ready for action.

After another hug and quick thanks from both of them, Harley excused herself and retreated to her room, jumping onto the bed. She snuggled under the covers and was surprised at how sleepy she got. Maybe she was more tired than she was ready to admit because she had absolutely no problems falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Harley's slumber was interrupted the next morning by noises from outside the room. She sat up in bed and stretched her arms out, releasing a long, slow yawn. When she realized that someone was outside in the cave, she smiled and hopped out of bed.

 _Bruce._

Not caring that she probably looked like she'd just been hit by a car, Harley rushed out of the room with her hair a complete mess. The sight she was welcomed with wasn't the one she was expecting, but it was a good one nevertheless.

"Mornin', Alfred," she smiled, skipping towards him.

"Good morning, Miss Quinn," he greeted cheerfully, taking a moment from his dusting to offer her a smile.

"Why are you cleaning so early?"

"Well, Master Bruce is arriving today and we wouldn't want him to come home to a messy cave, now would we?"

"How long before he's here?"

"No more than a few hours. I had some clothes sent to him so that he could deliver a speech at Gotham Courthouse before coming here."

"If he's giving a speech, isn't it going to be on TV or somethin'?" wondered Harley.

Alfred blinked. "I sincerely do not know how that could have slipped my mind."

Harley ran over to the screen and turned it on, tuning in to watch the local news. Sure enough, Commissioner Gordon was speaking into the microphone in front of a crowd of journalists. Both the mayor and Bruce were behind him, along with some other men she didn't recognize.

An instant smile spread over Harley's face when she saw Bruce in his suit and tie. Besides the bags under his eyes, he looked the same as always. Same deep blue eyes. Same square jaw. Same thick black locks. It was the face she saw every time she closed her eyes.

After a short speech from the mayor about how the city should try to be more aware about recycling, Bruce stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. He spoke of how Gotham was on its way to being the leading city in managing clean energy. Everyone had to do their part in keeping the city clean. Conserving water and electricity was a must.

Harley didn't hear much of what he said. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak into the microphone, her head began to spin. Had his voice always sounded like that? So deep and yet so soothing at the same time? When was the last time she had heard him speak? Nearly ten days now, which is probably why it was affecting her so much. It was almost embarrassing to admit how her heart rate had gone up the moment she heard him utter the first few words.

As of late, there was also a certain…warmth that had spread from her chest to her lower stomach, slowly creeping its way to a spot between her thighs and making itself more present the more he spoke.

Her hypnotic focus was broken when he looked to the side to signal a few kids holding a large check. The giant cardboard replica was almost as big as they were, causing them to struggle as they hauled it up to the elevated stage where Bruce was standing. The number on it had way more zeros than Harley expected.

"This," announced Bruce, motioning towards the check, "is a donation from Wayne Industries to the Central Gotham Elementary School District. They've raised an impressive amount of awareness towards a Green Initiative, going as far as taking time from their Saturday mornings to plant trees all over Gotham. I hope that with this donation they acquire more resources to continue their work on a greater level, making Gotham a better place for everyone. Thank you."

The crowd erupted into applause as Bruce smiled, waving in all directions so that the press could get him from every angle. At public events, he usually looked in control of his outer image, radiating charm and confidence. The smile Harley could see on his face this time, however, seemed genuine and pure. Something about helping the children always brought real joy to him. It was something she found incredibly sweet and caring.

"That's quite a speech, pretty boy," came a nasally voice from off-screen, causing everyone to freeze. The camera instantly swayed towards a small, stout man in a top hat heading towards Bruce. "But I think _I_ can find better use for that money."

"Oh dear," mumbled Alfred beside her, putting his dusting aside and watching the screen with wide eyes.

Back at the stage, the press had let out a cry of fear and shock as they scrambled backwards a few steps. Their cameras and microphones never faltered, however, not daring to risk the chance of losing an even better story.

"Cobblepot," said Bruce, taking a step back.

The man rushed forward and jabbed Bruce in the chest with a black umbrella. "It's Penguin! Remember it!"

"Look, I don't want any trouble. If it's money you want, we can arrange something. Just don't hurt the kids," Bruce said quickly, pulling the children behind him. He had a frightened expression that Harley knew all too well. It was the face he had to wear in front of the media when something went wrong. Underneath, though, he probably had that same fierce expression he always wore when he was fighting for justice.

"We _could_ do that," Penguin mused, taking another step forward. "But why go through all the trouble when I've got a nice fat check right here!"

Another step got him close enough to reach out and snatch the check from the children's' hands, grinning from ear to ear. One of the children began crying and Bruce got on one knee to try and comfort her, shielding her from the Penguin with his body. The distraction was taken advantage of almost immediately, and a quick swing from his umbrella connected with the back of Bruce's head to render him unconscious.

"Bruce!" Harley cried out in horror, bringing both hands up to cover her mouth. The only one who heard her was Alfred, but the man was equally as frightened and helpless. They watched as Bruce's body fell limply to the ground, a small trickle of blood running down the back of his head. The children that were there bolted the other way, running away from Penguin as fast as their little legs could carry them. They didn't get far, however, as the Penguin's henchmen had everyone surrounded. They were walking around collecting valuables from everyone there, ranging from cash to diamond necklaces.

Penguin himself waddled over and picked Bruce's pockets until he found his checkbook, a small leather booklet with the initials _BW_ engraved on the front. That's where the real money was. Stealing the giant check was merely symbolic, something done to push fear into everyone there.

She had to do something. _Anything_. She couldn't just stand there and do nothing while Bruce was unconscious with a head injury and the rest of Gotham was being terrorized. But what could she do?

Breaking away from the initial trauma of watching Bruce get knocked out, Harley scanned the large keyboard in search of a specific button. When she found it, she immediately slammed her hand onto it and shouted into the small microphone near the base of the screen.

"Dick! Barbara! I need your help!"

It was only a few seconds before both of them responded to her distress call. Right before he left, Bruce had given both of them tiny earpieces to wear at all times. They wouldn't be able to able to answer her unless they spoke through their BatComs, but they could always hear her.

"I just finished my exam," replied Barbara. "That's it with those for today but I have another class. Do I need to skip?"

Robin snorted. "What kind of question is that, Barb? _Of course_ you should skip. What's better than kicking butt and taking names, huh?"

"Guys," Harley said through quick breaths, trying her hardest not to hyperventilate. "Bruce is in trouble."

"What?!" both of them shouted at the same time.

"At Gotham Courthouse."

"Wait, is my dad there?" Barbara asked in slight panic.

"Yea he's there. He's safe and so is the mayor but Bruce was giving a speech and the Penguin showed up to rob them and he hit him on the head and knocked him unconscious and he's bleeding on the floor and-"

"We're on it!" replied Robin, cutting Harley off from her worry-filled rambling. His tone told her that he was all business now. "Barb, you're a lot closer than I am. Don't wait for me. Dive in when you get there and I'll join you as soon as I can."

"Got it," Barbara responded and ended her communication, but not before they heard the sound of her motorcycle engine roaring to life.

Harley breathed a sigh of relief and put a hand on her chest to lessen the weight she felt. Batgirl and Robin were on the way to help him. Bruce was going to be alright. Everything was going to be just fine.

So why didn't she feel any less worried?

Bruce had done so much every time she needed him. He was doing things for her even before she knew she wanted his help. Now the tables were turned and all she could do was stand by helplessly while someone else helped him. Just like the night he had shown up covered in blood. The best thing she did was call Alfred.

Harley was capable of more. She had to do something to help other than call for backup. But what?

Her eyes were drawn to a corner of the cave, an area mostly covered in shadows. From where she was standing, it was hard to see what lay there, perhaps almost completely forgotten, but not by her. The sight of it gave her an idea.

She turned to look at the older gentleman and pointed at the large object. When he saw what she was pointing at, he frowned in confusion but didn't say anything.

"Alfred," she said slowly, taking a few steps towards the dark corner. "Does that thing still work?" The look that spread over his face let her know it did, and she couldn't help but smile.

 _Hang on, Bruce_ , she thought to herself. _I'm coming to help._

* * *

 **I'm sure all, or most of you know what Harley's looking at, but to those of you who don't, what are some of your guesses about what she's going to do?**

 **Please leave me a review to let me know what you guys thought about this chapter. Thanks so much for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Happy Monday everyone! I thought I'd start the week by taking some time to finish this chapter up. I was going to finish it and post it up a lot sooner, but I had to fly out for family reasons and didn't get any time with my laptop. Hopefully there won't be so much of a wait before I post the next one up.**

 **Hope you guys like it!**

* * *

 _Left. Right. Left. Right._

 _Good job, Harley. You're doing great. One step at a time._

The small pep talks she was giving herself were helping out, but they were nowhere near being enough to shake the fear out of her.

Harley was in the open space of the cave that was used for close-combat training. She had plenty of room to move around and not hit anything. It was perfect for what she was doing. The boots and gloves were bulky and the helmet was uncomfortable, but she wasn't doing this for herself.

Bruce was in trouble and he needed her help.

With the aid of Alfred, Harley had managed to get the large robot onto the Batmobile, which immediately sped down one of the tunnels towards Bruce's location. She was standing in place now, waiting for her cue.

Her initial plan was to jump into the large BatRobot herself and somehow get to where Bruce was at so that she could pull him out of there, but that plan quickly fell through. She was nowhere near being as skilled in battle as the Batman, and being crushed inside a giant tin can was not something Harley was looking forward to.

That's when Alfred had brought out the equipment she was wearing. They were connected to the robot's programming through radio waves. Whatever Harley did in the cave, the robot would replicate out there. In case she were to get compromised or most likely did something dumb to put herself in danger, she could easily press the self destruct button from the cave and there wouldn't be a need to press an eject button to get her out of the area. She was safe where she was.

"Fifteen seconds," called Alfred from the other side of the cave. He was sitting at the computer and could see the Batmobile getting close. Through the camera on the face of the robot, Harley could only see black. It was almost time though, so she forced herself to take a few deep breaths. She saw the hatch on the roof of the car open up to let the robot clumsily climb out, but not before breaking a few things on the inside. There were a few cracking sounds as Harley clawed her way out. Bruce wasn't going to be too happy, but at least he'd be alive.

Showtime.

There were numerous gasps as she joined the chaos, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. The few cameramen who were allowed to keep the film rolling were instantly focused on her.

"Batman!" growled Penguin, looking at her with disgust.

Harley didn't answer. Back at the cave, her smile was stretching from ear to ear. She silently thanked her good fortune and amazing luck.

The Penguin thought she was the Batman. Everyone in the room probably thought she was the Batman. The bat and Bruce Wayne were two different people, and one was here to save the other. This entire situation, although by accident, served to help keep his identity safe. Her desire to use the suit to help Bruce was simply to make sure he wasn't hurt further. The rest was strictly a coincidence, but a good one.

She was a freakin' _genius_.

Harley stayed silent as she surveyed the area, making sure no one else was hurt. Bruce was still unconscious but seemed untouched after the whack to the head. He was in the same position and Penguin was apparently no longer interested in him. Except for the huge hole in the wall that the Batmobile made when it decided to drive into the building, there was no more damage. Hopefully Bruce could spare a few more bucks from that bottomless wallet of his to fix the courthouse.

"Cats are a bird's natural enemy," spat Penguin, petting the small silver bird figure that decorated the handle of his umbrella. "But I think I hate _bats_ just as much."

Harley remained silent, studying the room as quickly as she could to discern all immediate threats. She ignored the Penguin's comments, never even sparing him a second glance. Bruce would have never acknowledged him for a conversation, especially in the middle of a situation like this one. Instead, after deciding her plan of attack, she went straight to work. Lunging forward and jumping into a group of henchmen, Harley began delivering kicks and punches. Her range of motion was extremely limited because the suit was uncomfortably bulky, with the robot not exactly able to do everything she commanded, but it didn't keep her restricted for long. Once she got the hang of it, nothing could get too close to her without getting some serious damage.

It was only a few minutes later that she noticed Batgirl and Robin had joined her. Harley had finished with a small group of goons and turned her large robot head to see both of them behind, fighting away. They moved with a certain grace and deadly precision that she wished she could have in her inconveniently massive state. Since that wasn't going to happen though, she just had to work with what she had.

The slight distraction of watching Batgirl and Robin ended up costing her. The split second she took her eyes off the enemy was all a particularly large goon needed to slam into her, shoulder first, and tip her sideways.

The BatRobot fell with a heavy thud, rattling the entire thing from top to bottom. Harley silently thanked the fact that she wasn't inside. Just imagining what it would be like to be inside that robot while it clattered to the ground made her head hurt.

Off its feet, the Batrobot didn't do much helping out in terms of fighting. She could barely even tell what was going on around her anymore since she could only see straight up now. Her helpless state only invited the henchmen to pounce onto the robot, delivering blow after blow on the metal exterior with whatever they could. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw one of them point a gun at her face and pull the trigger.

Well, not _her_ face, but seeing through the helmet made her feel like she was actually there. It was all too real and extremely frightening.

The bullet, as it turned out, ended up burying itself into the soft flesh of one of the men's ankles after the ricochet. He let out a sharp cry of pain as he fell to the floor, clutching his leg tightly.

"It's bulletproof!" she heard one of the men shout at the one who had pulled the trigger. "You let any more rounds go and you might just kill us all!"

The man reluctantly put his gun away, tucking it away in his waistband before picking up a shiny aluminum bat. He immediately swung it down onto her, causing a large cracking sound to ring in Harley's ears. If she didn't do something soon, bulletproof or not, the robot's armor was going to give in to sheer persistent force.

Then she remembered something. Looking down at her bulky gloves that reached almost to her elbows, Harley scanned the buttons that lined the cuffs quickly to see if there was anything that could help her. To her dismay, most of the lettering was fading and difficult to read. That only left one option: Push everything until something worked.

 _Such_ a good plan.

The first button she pushed must have been some sort of magnet. The instant she pushed down on it, every crowbar, gun, baseball bat, camera, and microphone was pulled away from whoever was holding it and flew in her direction. It clung firmly to her armor, making her look like an abstract art statue in a high school drawing course.

Unfortunately for her, Harley left both of her friends without any weapons either. On the corner of her screen she could see the end of Robin's red staff, which was now getting pulled off by someone else. She had left Batgirl and Robin defenseless and almost every one of their enemies in the room was looming over the fallen robot, desperate to pull a weapon away.

"The one on the far left!" Batgirl shouted, her voice coming off as a desperate command.

Harley quickly did as she was told, pressing the small green button closest to her wrist. The outcome was a large electric shock that made contact with everyone touching the robot, which was fortunately a majority of the goons. Even Penguin was affected, as he had been trying relentlessly to recover his metal-tipped umbrella.

The last button Harley pressed was one that read _Jet Propeller_ in barely distinguishable letters. A pair of engines on the back released small flames as they pushed her up into the air and back onto her feet. The BatRobot was still functional, and she was ready to finish what she started.

With all three of them there again and the remaining goons getting more worn out by the minute, the Penguin and his small army were quickly neutralized, ending with everyone in cuffs and tied together.

The moment they heard sirens in the air, Harley led the damaged suit back to the car, jumping in and hearing a few more things break. Oops. As soon as the hatch closed, the Batmobile sped off, retreating through the same hole it had burst in through. Once they were out of the area, Harley took her helmet off and let out a huge sigh of relief. It was great to let some fresh air into her lungs, as it was getting awfully stuffy in there, but it was even better knowing that they had saved the day and that Bruce was going to be alright.

She had wanted to bring him back to the cave. There was nothing the medics could do that Alfred couldn't do better. He should have been brought back so that she could see him and make sure he was okay. She'd also make sure he never left anywhere again without his suit so that he'd always return without a scratch.

But even with his suit, Bruce was always in danger. Besides, it would look highly suspicious if the bat and his sidekicks came to save everyone from the Penguin and left with Bruce Wayne. He'd be the subject of many questions and some suspicion and she couldn't do that to him. He was a highly public figure that would already receive some spotlight for putting himself in front of the children to protect them. They would speak about his bravery and possible foolish recklessness for weeks to come. She could already hear the reports on the late night news channels.

Barbara and Dick made it back at different times. Barbara had her motorcycle but Dick had to take the subway after changing out of his Robin costume again. Both had minor injuries but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly. Alfred did his best to patch them up before they left again, Dick heading home for a shower while Barbara left with the intentions of seeing her dad. The commissioner was in much better state than Bruce but that didn't keep Barbara from worrying.

Just like Harley could never seem to stop worrying about Bruce.

"He's alright," Robin had reassured Harley before he left. "He was awake and getting medical attention when I took off."

Harley only nodded, not sure of what else she could say besides a quick thanks. Once everyone was gone, she sat at the computer and waited, hoping the minutes would stop crawling and start running.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until the sound of his voice jolted her awake. Hearing him call her name softly to wake her up brought her quickly out of her light sleep.

"Bruce!" she cried happily, jumping up to wrap her arms around him.

She couldn't help the smile that formed on her face just knowing that he was _actually there_. It had been far too long and it was borderline torture. Or was it? She'd been through way worse, speaking on a physical level. But these damn emotions had a kick to them, she was finding out.

Bruce seemed tired more than anything. The muscles on his back felt firm and a bit tense under her hands, weary after the long day he had. Remembering about his injury, Harley released him from her hold and grabbed his head, pulling it down so she could better inspect it.

"Does it still hurt? How bad was it? What did the doctors say?"

"I'm fine," he said softly, removing her hands from his head and patting them reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about."

"A hit to the head ain't 'nothing to worry about.'"

"Well that's all it is. Just a hit to the head. It might have been more, but…" he trailed off, stealing a glance at the discarded equipment Harley had used. "Someone decided to help," he finished.

Harley felt a blush coming on and broke his gaze, finding a spot on the floor to stare at instead. "It was nothin' you wouldn't have done for me, bats," she practically whispered. Knowing her, she'd probably start stuttering too if she didn't slow her heartbeat down. "In fact, I think I owed you."

"You didn't owe me anything, Harley."

She smiled at the way her name sounded on his tongue. "Well, I _wanted_ to help. Dick and Barbs have been doing such a great job and I couldn't just watch."

Bruce gave her a funny look. "Barbs?"

"It's what we call her," she said, flashing him a grin. Then she went back to staring at the ground and tried a nonchalant shrug. "We missed you, ya know,"

Now it was his turn to look away, but it was to take in his surroundings. He gave the cave a once-over and sighed deeply. "I missed this too. I was away for much too long. I missed the cave and _everyone_ that's a part of it."

Harley was nodding slowly when she saw him raise his hand and reach towards her face. He put his index finger under her chin and brought it up so that she could see his face. Harley, however, had her eyes closed, enjoying the way his skin felt on hers. It was so different than when he wore gloves. So much better.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was greeted with a piercing set of blue ones, so intense that if felt like they were boring into her very soul.

"Thank you," he whispered, offering her a warm smile that threatened to buckle her knees from underneath her. "You didn't have to go out and do that for me."

"I'd do anything for you," she whispered back, not even sure anymore of what she was saying. She was lost in an ocean of blue and suddenly coherent thoughts were impossible. Her words, once she registered them herself, caught both of them by surprise. There was the slightest of frowns visible on his face and his lips had parted a fraction of an inch. This new focus on his lips, however, was the last straw for her. Reaching up once more to put both hands on either side of his face, Harley pulled him down and pressed her lips against his.

The moment was lost on her, taken over by shame and embarrassment of what she had just done, until she felt one of his arms wrap around her waist. He pulled her closer, joining her dance and returning her kiss firmly. Harley let out a small whimper as he explored her mouth with his tongue, placing his other hand on her face to keep her there. She opened her eyes to catch a glimpse at his face, noticing how his eyes were closed as he lost himself in the moment, _just like her_.

Harley broke the kiss for air, breathing heavily as she tried to regain her composure. Bruce kept his eyes closed but dropped his hand from her face so it could join the one around her waist. He craned his neck down slightly to lean his forehead on hers, a small smile on his lips.

"I, uh…need to go to bed," she stammered, reluctantly pulling away from his grasp. "We've both had a long day and need some rest."

When she remembered how to use her legs, Harley turned quickly and all but ran into her room. She could see the look of confusion on Bruce's face, but the smile was still there as she made her quick retreat. He remained rooted to the ground until she was gone, not having moved even an inch by the time Harley shut the door.

She stood there and stared at the doorknob for a moment. This was _his_ cave. If he really wanted to, he could just walk in and no one would be able to stop him. She hoped he had enough sense to leave her to her thoughts for a moment, especially after what had just happened.

After about two minutes, Harley let out a breath of air that she didn't know she'd been holding. The bat wasn't coming in after her. That meant she wouldn't have to try and explain anything to anyone but herself.

Her stomach was still doing flips as she snuggled into the covers, making herself comfortable on the large bed. She brought her hand up and traced a few fingertips over her lips, trying to remember what his lips felt like. She definitely remembered how he tasted, and it was one of the most intoxicating things she had ever experienced. So addicting.

Was this what it was like to kiss someone who actually wanted to kiss you back? It was a firm pressure, soft but passionate, that had sent her skin aflame. To have her actions reciprocated was something that was completely new in terms of romance. Every man she'd ever fallen for could care less about her. Until now.

Maybe she was lying to herself. Maybe Bruce _didn't_ care about her and he hadn't gotten laid in a while so he was going with the first available option. Maybe she'd wake up tomorrow and find that it was all in the moment and that Bruce couldn't give a rat's ass about her.

If that was the case, however, she'd continue lying to herself for the rest of her life. She needed to kiss him again. She had to taste his tongue one more time. She had to feel his skin on hers once more, pressing her body against him until there was no more space between them.

Harley smiled, unable to deny her reality anymore. She was _obsessed_ with Bruce Wayne and there was no way around it. The giggle that escaped her lips only seemed to reassure her that yes…she really _was_ crazy. She _belonged_ at Arkham.

But she'd never go back.

Not when the bat was here. The only way she'd go back was if he went with her and shared her cell, that way they'd never be apart. Accepting the fact that she was crazy somehow made it okay, that it was something she could live with.

But did crazy people feel butterflies in their stomach? Did they lose their train of thought simply by hearing the sound of someone's voice? Did they feel a hot, pulsing throb in their groin that never seemed to go away? Maybe that's how crazy people got away with being crazy. They lied to themselves and simply believed they were _in love._

Lies.

It would always come back to lies, but it was something she could get used to. She'd lie to herself from now on and pretend Bruce wanted her even if she found out he didn't. She would put up with heartbreak time and time again if it meant she could stare into those blue eyes forever. Heavens knew she'd put up with much worse in the past to please a clown.

Even for love, pain was her destiny, and she'd gladly take it.

Anything as long as she could be with the Batman.

* * *

 **I know I said this story would only be a little less than 20 chapters long, but I had an idea for one more arc and then I'll wrap it up. It should end up being around 23 or 24. Not a whole lot, but I hope it'll be exciting for you guys.**

 **Sadly, I only had one PM for the last chapter and no reviews. Hopefully I can get a little more feedback this time about what you guys think. I'm dying to know what your thoughts are.**

 **Again, thanks so much for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello everyone! It's the middle of the week-ish kinda heading towards the weekend and everyone has mixed feelings about it. We all have our reasons to feel the way we do about Thursdays, but all I know is that I'm happy because I could finish this chapter and get it posted up. I've had quite a bit of feedback on this last chapter and I can't thank you guys enough for it. A special thanks to bloodygreeniris who's been reviewing for quite a while now, and also to ViceVersaRiley and Sephios. I don't usually do shoutouts or anything, but they've truly made my week.**

 **I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you guys.**

* * *

The next morning was…average. Nothing special or different. It's not like Harley was expecting a huge difference in her life after coming to peace with the fact that she was mentally insane, but she was expecting _something_. Maybe a voice in her head or a freaky twitch or a wild hallucination that followed her everywhere.

But no. The air in the room was just as cold. The covers just as soft. Her bed just as warm.

Her mind and memories just as lucid.

The night before began replaying in her mind immediately, causing those familiar butterflies to start swirling around again. She had _kissed_ him. And more importantly, he had kissed her back. His lips had moved and his tongue had fought hers in a war that happened inside their open mouths. She could still feel his hands on her waist, pulling her closer with a need almost as great as hers.

Or so she wanted to think.

The possibility that it had all been in the moment was still very likely. Harley had struggled with that idea all night until her head hurt and she couldn't take it anymore. It was like being seven years old again and pulling the petals off a daisy, singing out, "he loves me, he loves me not." After a mental torture that she finally pulled herself away from, Harley came to a decision: It wouldn't matter if he was into her the same way she was into him. She was going for it and that was it. Let someone try and stop her.

Groaning slightly as she pushed the heavy covers off of her, Harley climbed out of bed and stretched out. Due to overthinking everything the night before, her rest had been compromised and she had no doubt that there were huge bags under her eyes. That meant she'd have to put some make-up on and the thought of that wasn't appealing.

The clock on the wall said it was still early, so the cave would most likely be empty. Bruce was probably out already in one of those boring meetings that he hated so much and the kids would both be in school. The last time she had tried to do something in the cave, she'd been attacked by Robin and Batgirl. Granted, they had no idea who she was and why she was there, but now she didn't have to worry about that. Everyone had been so nice to her. Shouldn't she try and say thanks by tidying up around the cave? It would even take some work off of Alfred.

With a final stretch, Harley quickly showered and threw on some clothes, matching as best as she could. Black and red were still her colors of choice, but they weren't available today. Maybe after some laundry. Today, she'd have to settle for a soft yellow blouse and dark blue jeans. It seemed like a good match.

Harley was halfway out the door, thinking about what part of the cave she'd get started on, when she saw Bruce sitting at the computer. He had his back turned to her, typing away on the large keyboard. Stepping quietly, even though he had probably heard her already, Harley made her way over to his chair to see what he was doing. He was in a full business suit, different from the one he was wearing the previous night, and his dark hair was still slightly damp.

"Mornin' bats," she said as casually as she could muster.

He turned to flash her a smile. "Good morning Harley."

The image of his smiling lips reminded her of what it was like to feel them on her skin. She smiled back, leaning down to peck him on the cheek. Just as quickly as she moved in, however, Harley straightened up and looked at the screen in front of them. There was information pulled up on a young man that Bruce was apparently interested in for some reason.

"Who's Barry Allen?" she asked him, taking a step away from his chair.

"Not quite sure. But I'm going to meet him today," Bruce answered evenly, not even mentioning the peck or the night before. Harley wasn't sure if she should bring it up or not. After a quick second, she decided maybe it was better to wait.

"But it says here he lives in Central City?" she questioned with a frown, reading more into what Bruce had pulled up on screen.

Bruce stood up and straightened his blazer. "I have to go on business. But nothing about my job says I can't spare an hour or two conducting my own research while I'm there."

Harley's face fell, turning away from the screen to look at him. "You're leaving?"

"Just for today. Central City isn't too far and I only need to be there for a few hours. That plus the time I'll take to meet him," he said, motioning to the screen with a quick jerk of his head, "and then I'll be back. No later than tonight."

One day. That wasn't so bad. Since when did not seeing him for one day get to be so bad? Back when she was at the asylum, she would go way more than one lousy day without seeing the bat, and she was just fine. Perfectly fine.

But things were different now.

A firm grip on her back caused her to jump slightly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Harley hadn't realized she'd zoned out until she felt Bruce's hand bring her in close. Her face wasn't even raised all the way to see what was going on before his lips pressed onto hers in a soft, tender kiss. She kept her eyes closed until he drew back, probably frightened that something was wrong with her. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest and was beating madly. It was more than likely that Bruce could hear it from where he was standing.

"I'll be back, safe and sound this time," he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her skin and causing a shiver to run down her spine. She nodded numbly, believing in every word he said. How could she _not_? How could she doubt him when he said everything in the most reassuring, soothing voice?

Finally forcing herself to open her eyes, Harley discovered that she was alone in the cave. He had slipped away with ghostly stealth, leaving her light-headed, turned on, and by herself.

But he had kissed her before he left.

Maybe she wasn't so crazy then. Maybe the idea of a mutual attraction wasn't so farfetched. Maybe things could be different.

Harley smiled as she took a deep breath. She couldn't wait for him to get back.

* * *

"I'm telling Bruce."

"Harley, you can't do that!"

"Why?" challenged Harley, staring at the beat-up teenage boy. "Because he'll side with me and tell you guys that it was the dumbest idea _ever_ to split up?"

"Riddler was going to get away! I wasn't going to let that happen. And if Barbs had gone with me, we would have missed Langstrom altogether!"

"If _both_ of you had gone, the task of taking down each one would have been much quicker and you would've had no problem catching both. Instead, you're here with cuts and bruises that could have been avoided."

"I am afraid Master Bruce will find out one way or another," said Alfred with a slow shake of his head, tending to the gash on Barbara's cheek. Harley focused her attention on them next.

"How are you going to explain that cut to your father? Or to the school?"

"Motorcycle accident?" mused Barbara, although a bit sheepishly. Even she knew it would be a bit of a stretch.

Harley crossed her arms and huffed out a frustrated breath. It had been one hell of a stressful night, one where she wished she could have been out there helping them. In this case, it would have been both of them in different locations. At the sound of the alarms, instead of going together _like they should have,_ Batgirl and Robin decided to take a villian each, resulting in a long, complicated battle that could have been ended very badly for one or both of them. And Harley nearly tore her hair out while guiding and watching them from the cave.

"At least we got 'em, right?" tried Robin, flashing her a grin.

"I guess," Harley muttered, finding the chair in front of the large computer screens and nearly collapsing onto it.

"In the end, that's what matters. I mean, we got a little roughed up, but now Riddler and Man-Bat are back in Arkham and that means Gotham has two less people to worry about."

Harley couldn't deny that it was true. Although going back to Arkham held the same torment for others like it had for her, she was glad they were put there. If they really wanted to change and become different people, they'd take the appropriate steps to get there. Like her. And now she was turning her life around and helping the good guys. Making friends. Starting a relationsh-

She shouldn't get ahead of herself.

"What's for dinner?" asked Robin, walking closer to see the detail of Alfred's stitching. Barbara had a taut expression of repressed pain, refusing to look weak in front of the others.

The older man didn't look up from his work. "Considering I had to be here in the cave to make sure neither of you were killed tonight, dinner was put on hold."

"Can we- Ow!" cried Barbara, pulling away a little too far and causing Alfred to accidentally rip out one of the small stitches. "Can we order pizza then?"

Alfred considered it for a moment, going back to work silently. After a moment, he nodded towards the lift that led away from the cave. "You know where to find the phone, Master Richard."

Robin slipped his mask off in one swift motion and tossed it onto a nearby table. He then sped off towards the elevator with a huge smile and left the three of them in the cave.

"He better order a vegetarian one," grumbled Barbara.

"Ham and pineapple would be nice as well," Alfred added casually. Harley smiled at that and then turned to Barbara.

"Please go after him and make sure he orders a Hawaiian one for Alfred and a vegetarian for you."

"I was just finishing up here anyways," said Alfred, apparently liking Harley's idea.

"And for you?" asked Barbara, heading towards the elevator after hopping off the table.

"Lots of pepperoni and lots and lots of cheese."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "So boring," she said under her breath, pressing her hand to the wall and disappearing behind the closed doors.

"And I thought dealing with Master Bruce was migraine-inducing," smiled Alfred.

Harley let out a giggle and helped him clean up. There were cotton balls and blood-filled towels everywhere, along with a few bottles of rubbing alcohol. When they were finished, Alfred retreated with his bag of medical supplies and left the cave.

She sauntered off to her room and hopped onto the bed, taking deep, even breaths. Alfred was right. Dealing with Batgirl and Robin was giving her major headaches, especially when they got into danger. How many times had the same thing happened to Alfred when Bruce first started doing this? She closed her eyes and leaned back onto the pillows, dreading the moment when Bruce would have to go out on patrol and she would stay back, stricken with worry and fear.

The sound of her name being shouted across the cave woke her up. Harley hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until the echoes pulled her away from a dreamless slumber. It was Barbara, asking her to come outside and into the main area of the cave.

Harley struggled to push up off the bed, feeling weak and tired. Her stomach threw in a growl for good measure, making her realize she was beyond hungry. With her mouth watering at the thought of food, she walked out of the room and saw that Barbara was standing near the elevator, but _there wasn't a single slice of pizza in sight._

Someone was going to get stabbed.

"There you are!" smiled Barbara, motioning for Harley to get closer. "Dick ordered seventeen pizzas and that's way too many to bring down here."

Harley blinked. " _Seventeen_?"

"He said he was really hungry," Barbara said with a shrug. "That's what happens when Bruce leaves him his credit card and Dick starts thinking about food. I would have settled for a nice purse or a set of earrings, but whatever. Seventeen pizzas it is." She paused, giving Harley a strange look and apparently trying really hard not to smile wider. "So anyways…you coming up? We're gonna need the help eating them all."

It took Harley a moment to register what was going on. Barbara was already in the lift and was holding the doors open, beckoning for Harley to join her.

She was getting out of the cave.

The idea shouldn't have made her so happy, but it did. She wasn't trapped and suffering by any means. She had everything she could ask for right in front of her, and if not, Bruce and Alfred were always ready to comply to her whims. But to see something outside of the cave, something new, was a concept that excited her.

"Are you sure Bruce would be okay with me leaving the cave?" she asked.

"Don't worry about him," smiled Barbara.

Harley nodded in response, although still a bit hesitantly, and took a deep breath, returning Barbara's smile with her own. She looked around the cave, almost as if she were forgetting to bring something with her. A quick glance revealed that there was nothing she could take, that maybe she was just stalling for time. Finally bracing herself for what was about to happen, Harley stepped into the lift with Barbara and for the first time saw the doors close from the inside.

The ride was surprisingly smooth and much shorter than she expected, which either meant it was a small distance or it was just really fast. Before she even finished mentally preparing herself, the doors opened and she followed Barbara out.

The room she stepped into was not a room at all, but a hallway. The floor was covered in expensive rugs and the walls were decorated with intricate paintings. Harley was so absorbed in her new surroundings that she was startled by the soft sound of a click behind her. She turned to see an antique grandfather clock standing against the wall, proud and bold. There was no sign of the elevator anywhere.

Harley was led through a long hallway that helped give her an image of just how huge the house was. Due to its interior design and the size, not to mention the fact that it sat directly above the Batcave, there was only one place she could be: Wayne Manor.

"This place is huge," Harley commented, her mouth hanging open as she took in her surroundings. "How do you not get lost here?"

"It takes time," Barbara said quietly. "Here we are!"

Harley turned her head away from the walls and saw that they had come into a large room. The sight of everything in front of her caused her to blush furiously. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks and could only imagine what the huge, stupid grin on her face looked like.

It was a dining room of sorts, with more pizza than Harley could eat in a week covering the long, wooden table. There seemed to be way more than seventeen pizzas. And around the table, stood Dick, Alfred, and Bruce, all smiling and holding up drinks. Hopefully Dick's plastic red cup help something other than alcohol. One of them had put up a banner with huge colorful letters that said, "Welcome!" and surrounded it with balloons. There were more signs on the other walls, highlighting the occasion. Some of them welcomed her in Spanish, and another one was completely off, enough to make her giggle.

"Happy birthday?" she asked aloud.

Barbara stepped over to where Dick was standing and reached out to smack him across the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"I _told_ you not to grab that one!" she scolded.

"They ran out of the other ones!"

"No, no. It's fine," Harley reassured her, hoping to prevent more violence. "It's…" she trailed off, looking around once more. "It's _perfect_."

"I'm glad you think so," said Bruce, stepping forward with that stunning smile of his.

Harley nodded and met him halfway, letting out a cry of surprise when he pulled her by the waist and planted a firm kiss to her lips.

"Ewwwww!" came Robin's immediate response, although it sounded like he did for effect and not because he was actually disgusted.

Barbara, on the other hand, simply sent Alfred a look with her eyebrows raised, almost as if saying _I knew it_. The older man returned her gesture with a smile, looking away to start handing out plates.

"You guys did all of this while I was asleep?" asked Harley, bringing her hands up to wrap them around Bruce's neck.

"We figured we had enough time to get things set up while you napped," Bruce shrugged. "Hopefully seeing the house for the first time would be a bit more special this way."

"Honestly, all you needed was food," she smiled.

"Good, 'cus I'm starving!"

Everyone agreed with Dick, taking their seats at the table to start digging in. Harley reluctantly pulled herself away from Bruce and sat right next to him. It was only a moment later that she discovered three out of the seventeen pizzas were entirely for her. Extra cheese and extra pepperoni. And maybe it was the fact that she was so hungry and the pizza was delicious, or that she was surrounded by people she felt comfortable with. Maybe it was because she had found a connection with four other people that had nothing to do with crime. Well, the bad side of crime, anyway.

Maybe it was all in her head and she was just happy.

But in that moment, at Wayne Manor, the night couldn't have been any better.

* * *

"You should get some sleep now. Aren't you tired after such a long day?"

"I might need to go and-"

"No," Harley interjected, cutting Bruce off. "Dick and Barbara said they could do it on their own so you could get some rest. And right now, you're failing them."

Bruce gave her a look that almost made her blush. Alright, maybe she was being a little dramatic, but she really wanted him to sleep. The bags under his eyes were noticeable from afar and his yawns were becoming more and more frequent.

They were laying on a couch in one of his huge living rooms. The fireplace had a soft fire burning to give the room a warm glow. Harley and Bruce had started off sitting next to each other but after the others had left, Bruce pulled her along to fall into him. They half-sat, half-lay on the comfortable leather recliner.

"Maybe we could stay here just a little bit longer," said Bruce, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The arm that was draped over her waist squeezed a little tighter. "I kind of like this."

Harley reached up and ran her hand through his hair, feeling the thick dark locks between her fingers. The corner of his mouth rose up slightly and she couldn't help but smile. She remembered a time when all she wanted to do was see him smile, and now just being with him caused him to do so. It was something she'd never take for granted.

"Tell me how your trip went, then."

Bruce sighed but otherwise made no movements. When he finally spoke, his voice was deep and low.

"Do you really want to hear me talk about the wonderful world of running a business?"

"Okay then," Harley said softly, her hand stopping its caresses. She took a deep breath and tried to still her rapidly beating heart.

"We could…talk about… _us_."

"Us?" he said, half asleep already.

Harley nodded, fully aware that he couldn't see her. She wanted to answer him but she was too busy trying to compose herself. If there was anything more stupid to do than to bring this up on her first night at the mansion, she couldn't think of it.

But she wanted to know. What exactly was going on between them? The curiosity was killing her. The worst he could do was send her back down to her room in the cave.

Or back to Arkham.

The feeling of his hand on hers caused her to jump. She hadn't noticed him open his eyes and look at her, his face covered in worry.

"Harley, you're shaking. Are you okay?"

"I just…" she tried, carefully choosing her words. But her mind had gone blank and it was a hopeless mission.

"Harley-"

"I just want to know I'm not crazy. I mean, we sort of have this thing but maybe you don't see it that way and how can-"

"Harley," he said, a little more firmly this time. He sat up completely and covered her small hands with his larger ones. She sat there numbly and immobile, looking down at their joined hands. This time, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the red from rising in her cheeks.

"Who am I?" he said, his voice a lot softer than she was expecting.

Harley kept her gaze averted. "The Batman."

"Who am I?" he repeated.

"Bruce Wayne," she sighed.

"Where are we?"

"Wayne Manor."

"So you know who I am and where I live."

Harley nodded, still unsure of where he was going with this. As if she wasn't confused enough already.

"You know who Batgirl and Robin are. You know where the cave is. You know more than anyone ever has. I know you aren't dead and that you're actually a caring, warm-hearted person who wants the best for others."

"Is that what you think?"

Bruce shook his head slowly and locked eyes with hers. "It's what I _know_ ," he said softly.

Harley broke eye contact and scanned the room, as if searching for the words to express her confusion and wonder at finding such a person. She finally resolved herself and took a deep breath.

"So where does that leave us?"

"Well," he said, moving to lie back down. "There are a few reasons why I don't have any serious relationships, and the main reason is that my double life is way too problematic. You don't seem to have too much of a problem with it though."

Harley wanted to tell him that worrying about his safety was problematic enough, but decided to keep that to herself. Instead, she only shook her head.

"Another reason," he continued, "is that I'm…not too good at any of this."

"Neither am I," she giggled nervously.

"Well if you're willing to put up with me, then I'm willing to try just as hard as you for…this."

She couldn't remember how many times she had smiled so wide that it instantly hurt her face. All she knew is that it didn't start happening until she met the bat. There were so many times where he had made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.

And now she could say he belonged to her. For anyone to hear.

Their lips were joined for a brief moment, Harley's hands on either side of Bruce's face. Without the bulkiness of the batsuit, she could press into him much more, enjoying the warmth of their skin as it touched. When they pulled away, Bruce went back to lying down with his eyes closed, but there was now a smile on his face as well.

"Sleep now," she whispered, caressing his hair again. There wasn't a response, and judging by how his breathing had evened out, Bruce was probably already asleep. When she made a move to get up, however, his hand shot out to grab her by the wrist and hold her there.

"Stay with me," he asked softly, and it wasn't really a command but she knew it wasn't meant to be debated.

Oh God. As if she could ever say no to him like that.

Realizing she had no idea how the hell to get back to the cave even if she wanted to, Harley kicked off her flats quickly and unlaced his dress shoes, making a small pile on the floor near the foot of the recliner. She then tentatively climbed on, snuggling into Bruce's side and letting out a small noise of delight when he put both arms around her. His breath tickled the back of her neck but soon it didn't matter.

She fell asleep much faster than she thought she would, the smile never leaving her face.

* * *

 **Again, I want to thank you all for the reviews that came in. I loved every single one of them and I'd be lying if I said they didn't do anything to affect my ego. But isn't that a tiny percentage of why we authors post our stories up? lol**

 **The next chapter is halfway done and I should have it out pretty soon. Please review and let me know what you think about this one.**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Happy Monday everyone! Thanks to everyone who stopped to review or send me a message. I love exchanging ideas and receiving insight to what you guys think. I never had any plans to leave this story unfinished, but the reviews really keep me motivated. I only wish my schedule wasn't so hectic so I could update more often.**

 **Hope you guys like this one!**

* * *

The next few weeks were mostly the same.

Well, the same in the sense that nothing major happened. Besides that, things just got better and better for Harley.

She always knew that Bruce had money. Well, it was safe to say that everyone in the world knew who Bruce Wayne was, with his endorsements and charity donations and education fundings and all. There wasn't anyone who was a somebody that didn't know who Bruce Wayne was or how much money he had.

The sheer amount was never visible to Harley, but she slowly started to grasp just how much it truly was. It seemed only a few days passed before he had a new toy he was testing out to see if it could help him on his nightly patrols in the streets of Gotham.

Huge boxes and crates were delivered to his building downtown or to his warehouses, but he always found a way to get them to the cave. Shipment after shipment of high-tech parts were a constant, and after a while, they were nothing new anymore. Harley simply got used to them. It was an idea that somehow became the norm. If you had the money, you spent it. You weren't meant to keep it. Absolutely nothing in the cave was broken, and yet they could always use upgrades.

Bruce's money, however, also helped her start a new stage in her life. A stage that involved a new girl, as Harley Quinn no longer existed, and Gotham's most eligible bachelor.

There was no point in hiding anything anymore after she knew who he was and where the cave was located. She was free to roam the house while he was gone, although she usually just stayed on the large, comfortable couches in one of the many living rooms of the mansion. The one she chose was the room pretty much everyone had adopted as the main one.

As she sat and watched the next episode of a new series she was completely absorbed in, she glanced around and caught sight of some evidence that others commuted the area. Barbara's scarf was draped over a recliner and one of Dick's beanie hats was halfway tucked under another couch. Even Bruce was present there, with a pair of dark sunglasses thrown hastily onto a small coffee table towards the center of the room. Probably something he used as a disguise to get away from paparazzi every now and then.

At the thought of the word "disguise," Harley threw herself backwards and snuggled deeper into the couch, hoping she was rested enough for the night. With both Barbara and Dick out of school, they had taken over patrolling the city while her and Bruce found time…for themselves.

What should she wear this time?

Bruce's money had bought them an entire wardrobe of dark coats, different wigs, and makeup that she applied to both of them before they went out. They had done so every night for almost two weeks now, although they had done so periodically for about two months, and it was better than Harley had ever expected.

Without worries of being recognized, Harley could be a tourist. She tried everything she'd always wanted to try, went to all kinds of places that she never had time for. The clown was nowhere near being into that sort of thing, but Bruce…

He was something else entirely.

As soon as she had brought up the idea of wearing disguises and going out to explore the city, he had smiled at her in that trademark way that gave her butterflies. He had his phone out in a flash and then proceeded to make a few phonecalls. The boxes of accessories were in the cave no more than four hours later, and they began their adventures that very same night.

Bruce knew Gotham like no one else. He knew every shop and every alley and there was never a dull night as long as she was with him. She thought Alfred was the best cook in the world, and although her opinions of his culinary skills never faltered, she understood what it was like to dine in a restaurant that cost two hundred dollars a plate. Was it really that much of a difference? Probably not, but the food was absolutely delicious anyway.

Harley and Bruce made it a game to master a different accent and use it the next time their escapes led them to interact with people. On one occasion, after having used all the other stereotypical accents that mostly everyone can do, Bruce caught her off guard and impersonated her Jersey accent perfectly, his face betraying no emotion. He ordered for both of them with such a straight face that the waitress probably never doubted his speech for even a second. When the tall brunette turned to her to ask a few specific questions about her meal, Harley delivered her response in an impeccable rendition of Alfred's accent, even offering a compliment on the girl's "ironed trousers."

The waitress nodded politely and thanked her before leaving, which was Bruce's cue to burst out laughing. Harley couldn't help but laugh along with him. He was just way too contagious. How could she not feel happy when he smiled at her like that? His eyes would wrinkle in the corners and if he smiled wide enough to part his lips, she was rewarded with two rows of perfect white teeth.

Harley smiled at all of those memories and let out a groan of effort as she got up from the couch. She really had to get ready. Bruce would be home any minute now and it was always better to start as soon as possible, so she had to go pick up some clothes already.

The trip down to the cave was going to take some time. When they got home from having some fun out on the city, Bruce and her would make themselves at home on the couch and she'd fall asleep in his arms. On the nights where he had to go out and patrol himself to give the kids a break, she slept in her room down in the cave. He had offered her a million times to take a room in the house, but the cave was more familiar to her, and she had all of her stuff there. It held a small sentimental connection now.

Rubbing her arm absent-mindedly, she realized there was a small bump near her elbow joint, a few centimeters down her forearm.

Crap.

She'd heard the mosquito zooming around earlier but didn't have the energy to get up and hunt it down. As long as it stayed away from her, it could live. But apparently it hadn't steered clear of her, and now she was sporting a little red bump.

Did she have any more? The feelings of self-consciousness started creeping in, and Harley quickly changed route and made her way into the bathroom. In front of the tall mirror, she examined her body carefully, making sure there were no more marks. It was really going to suck if she was trying to have a good time and had to scratch away at the itchy spots.

After examining her shoulders and the rest of her arm, she lifted her shirt slightly to check her stomach. There was no reason why the tiny insect would have gotten her there, but she wanted to make sure. Just as she thought, there were no marks left by a mosquito, but there was something else that caught her attention.

"There you are," came Bruce's voice from the door, and Harley immediately let her shirt drop to cover her stomach.

She tried to act as casual as possible as she caught sight of his reflection. He came in as silently as always and stopped right behind her, wrapping both hands over her waist and planting a kiss on her neck. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on her shoulder and sighed.

"How was work?" she asked him evenly.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said quietly, ignoring her question.

"Nothin's wrong. Why-"

"You're not a very good liar."

Harley sighed, wishing he wasn't so good at reading her. She wanted at that moment, after wanting the exact opposite all day, that he hadn't come home so soon so that she had more time to think. Realizing there was no point in holding it off, she gently removed his hands and raised her shirt again.

A frown set over his eyes when he saw her stomach through the mirror. "I thought you had accepted that it was going to scar. Are you worried about bathing suits in the summer?"

Her physical appearance was the farthest thing from her mind. She had enough scars already and they never really bothered her. It was just something she had to live with as a result of her choices. This scar in particular wasn't even the worst one. A tiny mark about three inches long that was lighter in color than the rest of her skin wouldn't be an issue. She might even be able to pass it off as a scar from an appendix surgery.

What was bothering her was that she was here. She was happy. The topic of her leaving hadn't even been touched and she wasn't sure if as soon as she was able to leave, Bruce would end what they had and expect her to make a life somewhere else like she had wanted to before.

"It's healed," she said simply.

The meaning of her words took Bruce all of two seconds to figure out, and he dropped his arms completely to take a full step back. Harley turned to face him directly, not trusting the mirror to show her his emotions. But his real face was what she had seen before: empty.

It was the face he kept under the mask. His jaw was completely still and eyes stayed glued to the same stop without moving. However, unlike the early days when he bore holes into her eyes, Bruce's stare was fixed on a tiny spot on the bathroom tile.

"You're leaving then?" he asked, and Harley wondered if the control in his voice was fake.

"I never had a reason to stay before," she began, making sure to choose her words carefully. She didn't want him to take anything the wrong way so that he thought she wanted to leave. "But…"

Bruce's eyes rose slowly until eventually they were level with hers, and she wished his blue eyes could reveal as much as her brown ones did.

He had gone completely still. "But what?"

Harley took a moment to compose herself, which she hoped didn't seem like hesitation on her part. "But here, with you…I just…"

She couldn't finish. She blinked twice and felt two tears fall, one on each side.

There was no change in his appearance, no twitch or falter, but his voice wasn't as strong when he spoke again. "You wanted to leave Gotham and make a life somewhere else. And…I can't force you to stay," he told her. "If you want to leave, then-"

"I don't wanna go," she said finally, cutting him off before he could finish. "I know I told you I did more than anything in the world and you said you'd help me find someplace, but… _don't_. I don't wanna go, so please don't make me. I wanna stay _here_. With Barbara and Dick and Alfred and…you."

The more Harley spoke, the more the pain started to seep through on Bruce's face, but at the last comment, his mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows shot up.

"You think _I_ want you to go?"

Bruce crossed the space between them in a flash and suddenly his arms were around her and their lips were connected. As she let herself be pushed up against the sink out of pure intensity from the kiss, she let the rest of the tears fall, but they were no longer from heartbreak of having to leave her loving little bat.

She was going to stay.

She was going to fight for a life with a man that cared for her in a way that no one ever had. He had proved time and time again that she meant something to him. She was standing in his house while he wore normal clothes and they would be going out again later that night to spend time together. He had brought her into his life and had ultimately given himself _completely_ to her.

And now she was ready to do the same for him.

Bruce pulled away after a moment and wiped her tears with one of his sleeves, smearing makeup all over the fabric.

"Your shirt!" she cried out, rubbing her fingers over it and succeeding in only making it worse.

"It's alright," he assured her with a shrug. "I have more of them."

Harley smiled up at him and sniffled a few times, glad he was smiling back at her. She turned her head slightly and caught sight of herself. Not only was her hair still a mess, but now she had mascara all over her cheeks.

"I need a bath," she told him, stealing another peck and wrapping her arms around his neck. "You, uh…" she trailed off, chewing on her lower lip and feeling her heart rate go up to a million beats per second. "You…wanna join me?"

Bruce said nothing and simply staried at her as he studied her new demeanor. When her nervous, trembling hands went to undo his shirt buttons however, he covered them with his own and squeezed slightly to hold them still.

Harley could see the questions on his face, the insecurity, the confusion, but she wanted none of that. Doing the only thing she could think of, she stood on her toes again and planted another kiss on his lips, but this time her mouth lingered for a moment longer. When she pulled back, she offered him another smile and shook his hands off gently to continue her unbuttoning.

The next time she felt his hands, they were on her waist again. She smiled wider and felt herself relax. It was going to be a challenge to overcome the nervous wreck of a woman she had just turned into, but she'd manage. Of course she understood what… _that_ consisted of, but actually going for it was something else entirely.

As she continued, however, her worries subsided and she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She was with the person who understood her better than anyone else. It was almost a blessing that she had ultimately never reached a true level of intimacy with the clown. Of course, that was more his decision than hers. She'd always resented him for that, but now she was grateful for it.

Slipping off the shirt from his shoulders and then swiftly removing her own in one motion, Harley took Bruce by the hand and led him to the shower. The blush on her face was too much and she couldn't keep eye contact, but she led them nevertheless.

She wasn't leaving Gotham. She would never leave now. But she was away from the life of being a criminal. She was starting something new.

She was a new person, and as long as she was with Bruce, new experiences would always be welcome.

* * *

 **The first time I wrote a general outline for this entire story (somewhere around the time I wrote chapter four or five), I intended for this to be the last chapter. Then I thought I could do a little more, and now I'm absolutely positive it'll be around the 24 chapter-mark when this story ends. The next chapter is a surprise as to what it'll be, which I'm sure many of you can guess. It will also...skip certain details that happen directly after this chapter lol. I'm not against writing that kind of chapter, but it's not what I was looking to do for this story.**

 **Leave me a review or send me a message to let me know what you think about this chapter. Like I said, I have one more major event that will happen before the story finishes, so it won't stay boring forever.**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey everyone! I am honestly sooo sorry that this update has taken this long. My life has been a little hectic lately, but it'll all be over soon with an amazing and dreamy outcome. Or at least I'm hoping. Thanks for being so patient.**

 **I'm sorry this chapter is so short compared to others, but hopefully you guys like it.**

* * *

Darkness.

The room was covered in darkness, and that's what he preferred. Not that there was never any light in the room, but at the moment there was very little. The only light that found it's way in was the pale blue color of moonlight, which had slipped in through the slightly parted curtains. It fell in a long sliver, stretching across the floor to climb onto the bed.

He lay completely still, just like he had for the past hour. There was no way to tell how long he had slept, not without getting up to look at his phone, but that wasn't possible. Not unless he wanted to wake her up.

She had stirred next to him and had pulled him out of his sleep, but she never woke. She was simply snuggling into him, perhaps not even realizing she was doing it. Her breathing was deep and steady and she probably wouldn't wake until morning.

It had taken him but a few seconds to remember where he was and who he was with, and now he couldn't fall back asleep. It was a wonder he had fallen asleep in the first place, as he was so used to being awake at night.

It was his time to be alive.

He'd always known business would be his life. Due to a sick, twisted play from fate, his parents were no longer with him, but he was still here. He had to continue their legacy, something he did proudly in order to feel worthy enough to carry their name. It was a privilege to have been born into money, so it was his duty to help whoever he could. All he wanted was the best for everyone.

Was it wrong to start thinking of himself too?

Making sure to keep his movements slow so as not to disturb her, he turned his head to look at the sleeping woman beside him. There were many gadgets on his suit that helped him see better in the dark, but his normal eyesight was quite adapted as well. It didn't take much effort to clearly make out the bare shoulder and collarbone that rose and fell with every breath she took. He stared for a moment until a sigh escaped his lips. How did he get to this point?

He was compromised.

A hero in love with a villain.

But was that it? Or was it something else? Could it be that what he was feeling was simply infatuation? Something to get out of his system so he could move past it?

It was no secret that she was absolutely gorgeous. She took great care of her body, and it helped that she had been blessed with an amazing figure. When she stopped covering her face in makeup and let her skin show, it was much easier for him to tell what she was feeling. It was easier for him to see the color rise to her cheeks when she was surprised or embarrassed, or to see her frown out of anger or…jealousy.

She was beautiful. He knew many people in high places of modeling agencies that would pay a lot of money to have her model for them. She could be made into a celebrity overnight and stay in the spotlight for many years to come.

But she was different.

Harley was a simple girl, content with staying indoors all day in her pajamas with a television set and a pack of sunflower seeds. She liked the fancy, overpriced restaurants just as much as she liked the tiny family-owned shops. He could literally take her anywhere and she was just happy to be with him.

Together. That's what she always told him. As long as they were together, she would go anywhere. It was something that had taken him a long time to accept, but now he believed it.

He knew she had her reservations on certain things. It was impossible not to see the hints sometimes, and other times it was up to him to investigate or assume. What he didn't know was that she was completely inexperienced at being with anyone on a more…intimate level.

Women had never been a problem for him. If it wasn't his looks, it was definitely the money. It was never difficult to find a girl or two to accompany him to an event or a gala, but they either had one or two things on their mind. A gift in the form of jewelry or a night spent with him in a nearby hotel. Sometimes he would do one or the other, and sometimes he would do both. Why not? He had nothing stopping him, and he was a man after all.

But he had stopped all of that the moment he realized what he felt for Harley. Those jumbled, confusing feelings of care and protectiveness began affecting him in his everyday life. He couldn't go to an event anymore and not think about the girl in his cave with a bullet wound in her stomach, It was impossible to give a speech without wondering if Alfred had cleaned her wound, or if she had anything to eat yet. His care didn't start off as something big. It started by realizing he was staring off into space much too often and thinking about getting back to the cave to check on her.

His constant thoughts had begun in a much more cautious way. He stayed up days and nights wondering what any of this was. Even when she was at Arkham and they had their meetings, he wondered about the possibilities that he was beginning to trust someone that was only out to bring him pain.

Every bit of information she gave him was validated by his findings. Even if they were a bit off, he could prove easily that some things simply changed over time, and that maybe she wasn't completely up to date with every single detail of crime in the city.

And then there was that memorable occasion where she had almost called him _inept_ at his job for not knowing about the other mob that had gained territory in Gotham. In his defense, he was focused on much bigger things than to worry about gangs and their territories, but it was still a minor hit to his ego. He was trying very hard to remain calm because she was laughing at him, but just to see her laugh and smile was something that had an even deeper effect on him. There was no denying that he was furious, but to see her that way…

Maybe that's where it had started for him.

And maybe that's why doubting it was even worse.

His natural distrust in everyone led him to believe that it was all a game of deceit. Harley Quinn was simply on a good girl act to get information from him. She would give him some information about a few things that were going on around the city and send him on a wild goose chase while the Joker worked away on something else. She was simply a spy sent to keep him busy.

Something like that wasn't past the Joker. He had thought of much more twisted ways to carry out his plans and hurt people. It wasn't hard to see that she was absolutely devoted to him, putting up with public abuse and humiliation just to stay in his favor. Maybe seducing the Batman just to please him was what she had been ordered to do. It was definitely in the realm of possibilities.

But he had seen the change. Gradual and sometimes stalled, but it happened nonetheless and he couldn't deny it.

There were small signs at first, and then there were events that he simply couldn't ignore any longer, even after he had decided to push her away. There was also no denying he was starting to feel empathy towards her, and then care, and later on…what? What did he feel? It was all so confusing, and the first thing he had to do was find out what _she_ was thinking.

Sometimes he had to do things in his life. He didn't necessarily enjoy everything, but there were times when it was imperative to make decisions.

And other times he did things for fun.

Getting Harley to rise up to the bait was sometimes all too simple and he'd be lying if he said it didn't amuse him. A slight mention of Selina was all it took to send Harley into a fit of jealousy and rage. He watched her storm off and couldn't help but smile when he heard the door slam shut. It shook the frame with a force that was too much for a woman her size and in her condition.

He had also invested money in heart rate monitors some time back. They had been used once or twice on a foe that was particularly difficult to see in the dark, even with infrared goggles, but now they were simply lying around. So what did he do? He'd walk around the cave sometimes and stand just a little bit too close to her without her realizing it. When she finally noticed the proximity of his presence, he could see her heart rate increase exponentially while the color rose to her face. She'd stammer a bit and then move away as quickly as she could, looking down and refusing to make eye contact. She didn't know he was doing it on purpose, and of course he'd play the clueless act. But his watchful eyes caught every single one of her tiny hyperventilations.

He didn't have any cameras in the room where she stayed. There was honestly no need for them, as he hadn't intended for it to be anything besides a recovery room, especially for someone that wasn't him. When he made the decision to keep her there, he decided the cameras would stay out anyways. He had to respect her privacy, no matter how many doubts he had in the beginning. The best he could do was keep a lock on the door and an alarm system that would let him know if she ever tried to escape.

The cameras out in the main area of the cave did reveal something though. That terrible night long ago, when he had been caught off guard for thinking about her and had then showed up to the cave drenched in his own blood, she helped him as best as she could. There was real pain and anguish in her voice as she cried for him. She sincerely cared, and that was something he couldn't get out of his mind.

That's who she was. Maybe she had always been that way and it was simply masked during her time with the Joker, or maybe it was a complete change in personality that had come out of her will to be someone else. Whatever the case, he knew she wasn't the same.

He looked over at her again, with her peaceful expression and her blonde hair layed out behind her, and he realized this wasn't a one-night thing. Whatever it was that they had established, with months of spending time together and leading up to what he thought was the moment she would end it, was now somehow more. They had shared everything, including a bed, but he hadn't shared his secrets.

She knew his identity. It was a serious breach, but it wasn't everything. He wanted to protect her, to make sure nothing ever happened to her again, but how long could he keep that promise? How could he protect her from himself? She had already proved to be sensitive in certain situations, and he could be a cruel, unfeeling son of a bitch sometimes.

Or so he liked to pretend.

Things always went bad. Not through his own desires most of the time, but they were definitely his fault. And secrets had a tendency to rip him from the inside out.

His life as the Batman tore through so many of his relationships. Not like he ever felt a true connection with anyone before, but it didn't matter. No one ever got close enough for him to want to share his secrets.

Now he was with someone that _did_ know about his double life. Someone who accepted him for it and even admired his dedication. But this girl _had_ to be the _one_ person in the entire world who might hate him for a bigger, much darker secret.

Was he ready to tell her?

The question was tormenting him, just as strong as it had been for the past month. He realized that if he wanted to keep her, he would have to tell her. There was no way around it. And he had to do it before things went any further. Truthfully, he should have done it before… _this,_ but now it was too late. He would tell her and she would decide if she wanted to stay with him or not.

With a final sigh, he decided it was time. Time to tell her, and if she chose to ruin her life by staying with him, he'd choose something as well.

If she chose to give up her world for him, he would make the biggest decision of his life.

* * *

 **I told you guys on the last chapter (forever ago) that this chapter was going to be sort of a surprise. So there you go! I hope you guys like my attempt at a chapter from Bruce's point of view. Now we have sort of an idea about what he thinks and how he feels.**

 **Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter. Was it helpful? Do you have an idea about what he might be talking about? Again, it's kind of hard to make things suspenseful in a fandom where everyone knows everything, but I try.**

 **Thanks so much for reading. Happy Monday!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey everyone. It seems like every time I post a chapter now, I have to apologize for the long wait between posts. All I can say is that I'm sorry. I have been super busy, and I'm glad to say that my source of stress is finally over. Then after the big day I went away for a few days and now I'm back. But now that I have more time, I'll be able to finish this story a lot more quickly. And I kind of feel like I owe it to you guys for being super patient with me.**

 **I hope you guys remember where we left off. If not, feel free to read the previous chapter before getting to this one, as it's been a while. I hope you guys like it!**

* * *

Four.

Harley was sure she hadn't been awake for more than ten seconds before she realized there were four of them. She could hear them right outside, chirping away like it was their personal mission to make her life miserable, each tone easily distinguishable from the other and all of them annoyingly melodic. Lovely or not, their singing was keeping her from her rest, and she was getting more irritated by the second.

If they decided to continue their antics, she would march right out to the garden and hunt each one of those winged, feathery bastards down and make a stew out of them. It might give her an excuse to use the kitchen today. But why could she hear them all the way from the cave? She could only hear them…

…when she was in the mansion.

Forcing herself to pull her eyelids open, Harley looked up at the ceiling of the room she was in. It was a bit hard to see anything, really, with how dark the room was, but she quickly discovered that it was due to the thick curtains that covered the windows. A wisp of sunlight broke through here and there, but everything remained relatively dark. Harley didn't need to skim her surroundings much longer to realize she wasn't on the familiar couch she occasionally fell asleep on. There was no faint humming sound of a television near by, and the ceiling fan she kept on at all times for extra ventilation was nowhere in sight.

She did hear something else, however. It was a steady thud, a repetitious pounding that was only audible to her right ear but was strangely gone from her left one. Turning her head slightly, she was welcomed with the sight of a large bare chest. It was covered in a light layer of hair, except for a few places here and there were a variety of scars decorated the skin, each one unique in depth and size. The thuds continued, and she finally realized it was the beating of a heart.

"Morning," came a deep voice from next to her.

Harley flinched back involuntarily, enough to make her aware of the rest of her limbs. Her right arm was tucked underneath her and her right leg was outstretched completely, but both limbs from her left side were thrown over the man lying next to her.

"Bruce," she breathed out with a sigh of relief, recognizing the voice despite the effects of morning, which made his gruff tone deeper than usual. It wasn't strange to wake up next to him, as they had fallen asleep during a movie or a show many times while in the living room, and knowing he was here with her made everything better. Suddenly being in a strange place wasn't so bad. Maybe she could get him to go catch those birds for her.

Hoping that they would be quiet enough to let her sleep just a little bit longer, Harley shifted to snuggle deeper into Bruce's side. The second she made an effort to move, however, she felt pain shoot through her entire body, causing a small groan to escape her lips.

"What's wrong?" she heard Bruce ask her softly.

Harley frowned, letting out another groan. "I'm so _sore_ ," she told him, "Why the hell am I s-"

She stopped herself before anything else could come out. The events of the previous night began replaying themselves in her mind and suddenly she remembered where they were. She was also one hundred percent sure she was blushing harder than she had ever done so in her life.

The only thing that escaped from Bruce's lips in return was a low, rumbling chuckle that shook his chest and stomach. Harley shut her eyes hard and hoped with all her might that he wouldn't say anything. It was bad enough that she would say something like that and that he noticed exactly the moment when she remembered everything, but if he started _teasing_ her, she would surely die of embarrassment right on the spot.

Opening her eyes and looking around again for anything that might save her, Harley noticed once more how the sunlight was trying desperately to penetrate the curtains.

"What time is it?" she asked him as casually as possible.

When his silent laughter died down, he cleared his throat before he spoke. "Not sure," he admitted. "Hopefully morning and not afternoon."

"Have you been awake long?"

"No," he said with a soft shake of his head. "I woke up for a few minutes some time during the night when it was still dark and again just now about ten minutes ago. Seems to be a lot of noise outside today."

So the little winged pests had woken him too.

They let the silence fall over them after that, mostly because Harley didn't know what else to say. It was possible to get up and get the day started, but she was comfortable where she was at. Besides, despite her initial thinking, things never led to a situation of awkwardness. The two of them simply lay together in a state of serenity, Harley focusing on Bruce's strong heartbeat while he drew imaginary shapes on her back and shoulder with his fingertip.

Unfortunately, the peace and quiet had to end. Harley had so many questions and the gears in her mind just wouldn't turn off. What was going to happen now? Was it a one time thing for him? Did he plan on treating her like a close friend that he occasionally shared a night with? Was he ready to just move on to the next girl?

"What are you thinking?" Bruce asked, apparently noticing the shift in her demeanor. She had to remember he was the world's greatest detective.

Most of the time.

But this time he was right. It was no secret that a tornado was whirling around inside Harley's head, and there was no point in keeping it from him.

"About…well…" she trailed off, not really knowing how to start. "Is there anything else I would be thinking about?"

"Just tell me the first thing that comes to mind, even if it doesn't make sense. We can figure out the rest from there."

His words were enough to get her to gather up some courage. Before any of it could leave her, she parted her lips and let the words flow out.

"I like you, Bruce. I hope you can tell that it's more than just a little bit. I like that you care about not just your family, but the entire city. I like that you don't care about anything but keeping everyone safe."

Bruce turned his head so that he could face her better. "But…"

"But nothing," she smiled. "I don't want to be anywhere else or with anyone else. If you want me to stay, I'll stay here forever."

She knew her words would have an effect on him, but to her dismay, it looked like the exact opposite of what she was expecting. Harley thought he would look happy or even relieved, but the moment she stopped talking, his face set into a serious expression that she couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course I want you to stay," he said softly.

Harley scanned his face again. "But…" she pried.

"I need to tell you something," he said somberly. "Something you didn't know before but that I should have told you a long time ago. And after you know, _then_ you can decide if you want to stay or not."

It was more than fair to say that her curiosity was peaked. A secret that Bruce hadn't told her yet and decided _now_ was the best time to tell her was filling her with dread and worry. She saw him shut his eyes and take a deep breath, and despite the new questions that had popped up, Harley knew that it was time to listen now and ask later.

"After the death of my parents, I knew that bad people existed. Not just the bad people that got into it with other bad people over territory or respect. There were bad people who could take good people away for no reason. I hated myself for not having been able to do anything for my mother and father that night, but then again, how could I? I was only a child, and it's not expected for them to know what to do in a situation like that. But it was no excuse when I got older. How many more children would suffer my fate because of a stranger?"

"My whole life had been about learning to run my father's company. It's what I had to do, and I was glad to do it. To do something and live up to my father's name was all I ever wanted. But even then, I felt like something was _missing_. Maybe I just missed them. I don't know. All I knew was that I felt like I could be doing something more, and my mind always went back to a kid in a dark alley crying over the bodies of his parents."

"I was privileged for having the money I did. If there was anything I could use, it would be that. Perhaps inventing something to help make sure crime went down would be my purpose. Just the idea of that made me more optimistic. Then, over time, I decided that I should be the one to go out and keep bad things from happening. I told Alfred what I wanted to do and he waved it off as a joke. But I was the one with access to the accounts. To the company. To the equipment. So I made a few deals and suddenly I was trying to build the cave. It wasn't anything close to what it is now, but Alfred helped once he saw I wasn't going to give up on it. Weeks and weeks of training in combat and suddenly I was ready to take on the streets of Gotham."

Bruce paused, and Harley knew the story was getting harder for him to tell. She waited as patiently as she could, giving him all the time he needed.

"My first night out, I picked up a lead on a criminal Gotham PD had been trying to catch for a few weeks. Highly intelligent and just as elusive. He was known in some circles as the Red Hood, and not much was known about him, but I had done some investigating of my own. His name was Dr. Jack Napier, and through circumstances of life, he had turned to crime and was causing headaches among law enforcement. I tracked him down to a chemical factory and got to him before the police did. I found him in one of the offices while a couple of parolees kept watch. By the time I took them down, he had bolted out of a side door and was running across a metal bridge towards an exit. I ran as fast as I could and caught up enough to hold him in place. We struggled for a bit, and I told him that if he turned himself in, it would be better for him. My only intention was to keep him there. I was…still deciding whether or not death was a better option for the ones who never seemed to learn."

A few more deep breaths escaped Bruce's lips, coming and going with the rise and fall of his chest. Harley was as confused as ever but completely enthralled in the story of a stranger that Bruce held as highly important. Despite her fear, she was dying to know the outcome of the story and its relevance to everything, although a thought had already crossed her mind.

Did Bruce kill this man? Had she fallen in love with a killer?

"If I killed them, then they would never have the chance to kill a small child's parents and ruin their lives forever. But if I did that, how different was I from the man who killed my parents? All of this was going through my head and I must have gotten distracted enough to lessen my grip on him. He scrambled free and we began to fight. On one of the swings I threw at him, he stepped back to avoid it and slipped backwards. I…" Bruce trailed off, swallowing hard. "I tried to catch him. But it all happened so fast and we were so high up…" Bruce opened his eyes to look at the ceiling for a quiet moment before closing them again. "I watched as he fell into a huge container of green liquid, thicker than water but not as dense as syrup. Just as I was getting ready to jump in after him, he came up to the surface and climbed out as if nothing was wrong. But…something _was_ wrong. His…hair was green and…his skin was white…"

Bruce stopped talking altogether and simply looked at Harley with the most pained expression she had ever seen. But she couldn't quite register it completely. She was too busy going over the last thing he had said.

Green hair…

White skin…

A man who was both intelligent and vile…

The birth of the man they called the Joker.

The reality of it hit her like a ton of bricks, almost as bad as the night she had gotten shot by the same psychopath they were talking about now.

"You m-mean…"

"I mean I _created_ him," Bruce finished for her. "I mean that I'm a criminal for that very reason. A vigilante with no permission from the city to parade in a costume and take matters into my own hands. And what's worse, I created the person who's turning out to be the most dangerous criminal in the history of Gotham. If it weren't for me…then there wouldn't be a _him_."

The words were said with so much loathing and disgust that Harley was sure it wasn't all meant for the clown, no matter how plausible that seemed. Some of the hate that was boiling inside of Bruce was for himself. He hated himself for being the reason a monster was born.

A memory suddenly flashed in her mind and she closed her eyes to grasp it better before it slipped away. She was with Bruce, the night he found her at the park for the second time. She had just escaped a hole-ridden Arkham and was contemplating her chances of making it out of the city undetected to start a new life somewhere else. He had found her and they spoke about her desire of creating a new life for herself, a life with no more crime and no more messes. He had called her a criminal, and when she asked if that's all she was to him, he surprised her by saying they were all criminals, including him.

It had taken her by surprise, and she remembered being completely confused by what he was saying. When she replied with saying she was paying for her mistakes, mostly due to decisions made regarding the clown, he had told her he was paying for his mistakes too.

Now she knew his mistake also had to do with the clown.

Harley opened her eyes again to look at him. He was back to staring at the ceiling, probably dreading her reaction. Worried that her long moment of silence had caused him to fear the worst, she immediately put both hands on either side of his face and turned his head so that he would look at her again.

"Stop," she told him firmly. "I know what you're thinking, and I want you to stop it. I need you to-"

"He put you through hell," Bruce said simply. "He's even the reason you were shot and-"

"I did that to myself. He might have pulled the trigger, but I was with him because I wanted to be. Now…I honestly don't have the _slightest_ idea what I saw in that. I don't know what I was expecting to get out of it, where my life would end up, but everything I went through was because I chose to be there. And don't you remember who saved me after I got shot?"

He gave her a hard stare, and she could feel his jaw clench underneath her palms. "I can't take credit from saving you from a fire if I was the one who lit the match, Harley. It doesn't work that way."

"I told you to stop," she said, refusing to back down. She'd be just as hard headed on this as he was. "I don't blame you. Not one bit. So don't blame yourself. Instead…" she trailed off, sparing a quick glance around the room. "Can't we just look at how things are now? We're happy. We're together. Can't we just push past it and forget about the past?"

"We can never forget the past," he whispered. "Especially when the past pops up every so often to rob a bank or blow up a building for fun. And I have to live with it because no matter what…I refuse to kill him. I made that choice on my first night and I won't it change now."

"I'm not asking you to kill him, batsy. I just wanna know if…there's a solution to all of this."

He looked at her so suddenly that she was sure she had said something wrong. But his face wasn't angry or annoyed. It was, however, an expression that left Harley with more insecurities than assurances simply due to the fact that she didn't know what he was thinking.

"There…is a solution. Not to everything, of course. But at least…for us."

The confusion must have been quite evident on her face because Bruce took both of her hands in his and gave them a soft squeeze. "You once told me that the Joker chose me over you, in a manner of speaking. That instead of staying with you, he decided to keep this life up so that he and I could fight one more day. You said that he showed you the door and didn't run after you once you passed through it. And," he said with a deep breath, "I'm not going to make the same mistake."

Harley frowned, still not sure what was going on. "What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I mean that I think Robin and Batgirl have proved more than enough that they're capable of handling the crime in the city by themselves. And when they can't, they have Commissioner Gordon to help. I'm not saying the Batman will forever disappear. I'm just saying maybe it's time for someone else to take over."

"You can't be serio-"

"I'm _very_ serious," he said with a nod of his head. "How else would I have time to keep building what we have here?"

It was a decision she wasn't expecting and which instantly filled her with mixed emotions. Leave Gotham without its Dark Knight? How would he even consider that? Had she given him a reason to make him think that she wanted him to choose between their relationship and his commitment to the safety of the city?

On the other hand…she wanted to repeat their previous night immediately just to keep proving to him how much she loved him. Her vision was starting to blur and she was sure there were tears in her eyes. They might even be running down her face at the moment. Who knew? She definitely didn't. It was much too hard to think right now.

He was giving up everything, the very thing that made him who he was, and he was doing it all for her. Could she ask for anything better?

"So you're going to retire?" Harley asked when she remembered how to speak.

"I am," he said with a warm smile. "I think it's time for Bruce Wayne to retire as the Batman."

* * *

 **This was originally the next to last chapter, and I was going to use the last chapter (after this) to wrap everything up nicely. But then I got the idea for one more little conflict, so we'll go on for a few more. And like I said, I'll have those chapters out with way less than a freakin' month in between each one lol.**

 **If you aren't too mad about waiting, please leave me a review about what you thought of this chapter. Thanks so much for reading. See you soon!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey everyone! Here goes another chapter. I hope everyone's week is going great so far. :)**

 **I had a bit more fun writing this than I had writing the last few chapters, and I really hope you like it.**

* * *

Having Bruce around the house was great. He still had to go to Wayne Industries to take care of the company, but he was home every night and rarely went into the cave. Instead, he stayed in the mansion with her, even deciding to skip out on some of the galas. This was something the media picked up on fairly quickly, and Harley had no idea how, but the news of her stay broke out and suddenly there were paparazzi outside Wayne Manor at all hours of the day and night.

They knew there was a mysterious woman living on the property, and that it was probably the reason why the elusive Bruce Wayne was more secretive than usual, but they didn't exactly know who it was. She decided to make sure it stayed that way, so she reluctantly dyed her hair a darker shade and ditched the blonde completely. It was something she almost instantly regretted, and even Bruce would say now and then that he missed the blonde too, but she had to make a sacrifice in order to keep them safe.

After all, was it really a sacrifice to change her hair color when Bruce had given up being the Batman?

Harley knew he was a little wary of leaving all the crime fighting to Dick and Barbara, but his worries subsided with time. It also helped that every now and then, there were sightings of a mysterious "red streak of lightning" zooming around Gotham and fighting crime. Apparently Bruce had made a friend on his frequent visits to Central City.

The help was only occasional, so Bruce still helped Robin and Batgirl every once in a while on a particularly difficult case, but it was always from the cave with his detective skills. He never slipped the suit on anymore, and it stood on display perfectly preserved in a glass case.

The kids would seek him out whenever his expertise was required, and he'd play hard to get every time it happened. However, it really didn't take too much to get him down in the large black chair typing away. He explained to her that it was going to take him some time to completely withdraw from everything, and she didn't blame him.

"I only go down there when they need me," he reminded her. "Eventually they won't."

She had smiled and told him it was okay. The change wasn't going to happen overnight. Or over the course of four months. Harley left it at that and didn't press.

Mostly because she knew he was lying to her.

The room was completely dark as she tried to even out her breathing. Sleeping next to Bruce for so long taught her how to listen for anything. She was becoming something of an expert in detective skills herself. Maybe his stealth was enough to fool anyone else, but not her Not anymore. She kept her eyes closed as he walked back into the room and slipped back into bed next to her in an almost ghost-like fashion. It took almost two minutes for him to doze off. She could hear it in his deep, exhausted exhales.

He was sneaking out at night.

It wasn't true that he was only going down when the kids asked him to. She didn't worry that he was suiting up and patrolling the city. It was her initial thought, but Harley had learned to search for answers before jumping to conclusions. If he wanted to keep secrets, then so would she.

"I have something to ask of you," she said as she approached Robin one day. "A really huge favor."

She was waiting for him next to the grandfather clock that served as the elevator down to the cave. Since moving into Bruce's room and bringing her stuff up with her, she hadn't set foot there.

The boy was on his way in from his nightly duties, and although he looked worn out, he instantly frowned at her in pure concern. "Are you okay?" he asked immediately.

"I'm fine," she reassured him with a weak smile. "I just…need you to do something for me."

It was then that she explained how Bruce was leaving at night and returning before she woke up. His batsuit hadn't been touched since he put it in the display, and the batmobile was only gathering dust until Robin was old enough to drive.

"Do you think you can follow him one of these days? I just want to make sure he's okay."

"Well, if he had another suit somewhere else and was using that one, which I don't put past him, then I would have heard something on the streets. Even the smallest sighting of the mighty Batman's return would cause a little bit of static."

"So you don't think he's going out?"

"No," he sighed, crossing his arms. "But I can follow him, if you want. It's really weird that he hasn't told anyone about it, and I'm not going to lie, I'm kind of curious about it now."

Harley nodded at that, glad he had decided to help. She neither had the experience nor the resources to do it herself. But if he had denied her his help, she would have to find a different way. She half expected for him to say no, as it meant that Robin would have to go behind his adoptive father's back and basically invade privacy. But she was worried, and she wasn't going to stop until she knew what was going on with him.

That's what a relationship was about. Taking care of one another. In the time she had found out Bruce was leaving at night, infidelity had crossed her mind about half a second and was then gone from the possible reasons he was leaving. It was hard to forget everything he had done for her, and all that he claimed she meant to him. That's why it worried her that he was keeping it from her. It had to be extremely important for him not to want to worry her. There was only one thing it could be…

…and she was right.

"He's been tracking the Joker," Robin told her after a few days. "We still have no sign of him and I think it's making him worry a little bit."

Harley was having trouble registering the words when she first heard them. Bruce had given up on being the Batman to break this cycle of hero and villain with the clown, but in the end he had gone back. She wanted to understand what that meant, if it had all been a lie or if-

"He's trying to keep you safe, you know," Robin added, clearly seeing the change in her demeanor.

"That's sweet, Robin, but-"

"I'm serious," he said firmly. "When he leaves at night, he spends most of his time in the cave. Doesn't go out. Doesn't suit up. Simply keeps an eye out. But it's not to catch him."

Harley frowned, swallowing the lump in her throat. "If he's not trying to catch the clown, then what is he doing?"

"From what I can tell, he just wants to know what _he's_ doing. There's four scenarios possible. Either he left Gotham for good, he's planning something huge that's taken him all this time, he's laying low to look for the Batman…or he's laying low and spending all his resources on finding…you."

"Me? Aren't I supposed to be dead?"

"That's what Bruce made it look like. And he did a pretty good job of it, but he has absolutely no way of knowing if the Joker bought it. So Bruce has been moving things to make sure he doesn't start double checking things. He's already had 'your' remains dug up and cremated, that way they can't check bone records. And he took a few hours the other night hacking into the city's database to make it seem like you've _always_ been pronounced as dead and cremated, not dead and buried."

Harley backed away from Robin and took a seat on the couch behind her. Her suspicions were proven right. This had to do with the Joker, but not for the reasons she thought. Bruce was simply covering his tracks to make sure the clown never ever found her.

"Thank you," she told him with a soft, genuine smile. "At least now I know and I can try to talk to him about it."

"Glad I could help. I'm just happy to see he isn't in danger."

With that, the boy turned and left the room, most likely heading to school. He looked exhausted, and Harley felt bad for making him stay up at night instead of getting his rest, but he'd be staying up anyways to patrol the city. At least that's what she told herself to ease the guilt.

Bruce had left for Metropolis on business first thing in the morning, so she'd have some time to think of what she wanted to say before it actually happened. Despite how difficult it was, she did her best to push everything out of her mind and deal with it later.

Dick was gone now but Barbara had a day off and the two had planned on having a day of ice cream and romantic movies. It was all in an effort to help her get over her most recent breakup, which wasn't all bad since they were only together for a few weeks, but did they _really_ need an excuse to sit around and do nothing all day?

Barbara showed up around noon with two buckets of ice cream, a family sized bag of potato chips, a stack of movies, and a few chocolate bars.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Barbs, do we really need all of that?" Harley wondered with a small laugh.

"Maybe not," she shrugged nonchalantly as she settled on the couch. "But it's too late now. I'm not returning them."

Harley grinned along with her as they popped the first movie in and leaned back onto the huge pile of blankets. They watched it in peace for a while, not really engaging in conversation. It was a movie she hadn't seen in some time and was rather enjoying when she felt the silent vibration of a phone on the couch. Barbara had placed it to her side but seemed completely unaffected by it.

"Your phone is ringing," she told her.

"Probably him," Barbara replied as she scooped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. "Maybe he wants me back. Maybe he doesn't. Either way, I don't care."

Harley was about to respond when the phone started ringing again. This time both Harley and Barbara looked at the phone with a frown. "Maybe he _really_ wants you back?" Harley offered.

"No way," said Barbara. Picking the phone up, she leaned forward and lightly tossed it onto the coffee table, never even looking at the screen.

"What if it was your dad?"

"My dad wouldn't call twice," Barbara said confidently. "He'd just leave a text saying to call him back as soon as I can."

"That reminds me, I think I left my phone in the room. Maybe Bruce-"

"Bruce is in meetings, Harley. He's not going to be-"

 _beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep_

Harley curiously glanced towards the strange noise coming from Barbara's phone before looking back at the younger girl. She spent a lot of time with her, but she had never heard that noise before. It was especially strange because Barbara never changed her ringtones.

Barbara, who had turned instantly pale, jumped out of the couch and scrambled towards the phone. She was just about to reach it when they heard a crash downstairs. Harley's eyes went wide with fear at the intensity of it. Had Alfred dropped something and possibly hurt himself?

"No no no no no," Barbara kept muttering, grabbing her phone and rushing to one of the paintings. She hastily pulled it aside to reveal a tiny set of screens, and although Harley couldn't make anything out of them, it only took Barbara half a second to scan them.

" _Shit_."

"Barbs, what's happening? Is Alfred okay?"

"Alfred should have already escaped," she replied through her teeth as she put the painting back up. "And if I weren't so _stupid_ we would have done the same."

"What are you talking ab-"

"There's people in the house."

" _What?_ How? We have to leave! We can get to the clock and go to the cave and-"

"It's too late," Barbara said with a shake of her head, but it wasn't a defeated gesture. While Harley was trying not to freak out, like always, she could almost see the gears turning in Barbara's head. She apparently decided on something because she turned her phone off completely, cutting off the beeping noise before sliding it under the couch. Stepping over to stand in front of Harley, she immediately went for her shirt buttons.

Harley's hands shot up to push her away but Barbara wouldn't be deterred.

" _Stop_!" she whispered frantically at Harley. "We don't have much time."

Harley could already hear talking and heavy footsteps coming from down the hall, so she let Barbara do whatever she was doing. The girl took a few more buttons off until Harley's cleavage was showing. Then she went to work on herself, pulling up her shorts so that they looked even shorter and then tying her shirt behind her back, revealing her midriff area.

She gave herself a once over before looking at Harley again. She seemed to be satisfied enough with what they looked like and closed her eyes. "Just follow my lead," Barbara whispered.

And then they heard it.

It was a sound Harley never thought she would hear again, or at least hoped she wouldn't. It was a sound that made every hair on her neck stand up in both fear and horror. It was a sick, twisted laugh that held nothing but evil.

"Good evening, ladies," came the cold voice from the corner of the room.

The purple suit made his green hair stand out more than usual. He was sporting a cane that was clearly just part of the outfit and most likely not because he needed it. The yellow of his teeth seemed dull compared to the white skin that covered his face. The finishing touch, the part that made Harley's heart fill with dread and horror, was the fact that his eyes were cheerful, alert, and didn't show any regret or remorse for all the crimes he'd ever committed.

He stepped in with his henchmen closely behind, but all of them dispersed as soon as they had the space to do so. They took to pushing things over and making a mess as they went along scanning the room.

"Brucie!" Barbara shouted out. "Baby, is this your idea of foreplay?"

The clown burst out laughing and looked her up and down before doing the same to Harley. She held her breath, waiting for the moment when he roared out in rage at seeing her again, but he seemed unaffected by her presence. Her changes in the end had paid off.

"I'm afraid that's not why I'm here," said the clown, holding back another cackle. "I'm here for Wayne. I just…" he trailed off, apparently recognizing Barbara. "…didn't expect to find two callgirls here. Does your daddy know you do this, sweetheart? Oh the scandal! The commissioner's daughter is a whore to Gotham's Golden Boy!"

"Look here, mister," Barbara snapped. "I'm in college now and I can do whatever I want. Besides, me and my cousin aren't callgirls. We're just really good friends of his. With a taste for expensive gifts. That doesn't make us _whores_. We just came over to surprise him, but we didn't know he wasn't home."

The clown couldn't hold himself any longer and started cackling away again. "I _love_ it! A simple shift in point of view and all of a sudden things aren't what they seem! Well, whatever helps you sleep at night darling."

Harley jumped slightly at the sound of shattering glass behind her. One of the henchmen had taken a baseball bat to a dolphin statue that she _really_ liked. If she ever got out of this, she would make sure he paid for that.

"Maybe it's time to phone Wayne and see where he is," the clown said, stepping closer to them. Harley tensed up involuntarily and she knew Barbara was doing the same. He didn't seem to care however, and he brought up a hand to roughly grab Barbara's face to force her to look at him.

"You see," whispered the clown, his voice falling to a dangerous growl. "A certain little bat is hiding and won't come out to play. I want to find him, and for that I'll need _cash_."

He let her go as quickly as he grabbed her and stepped away before laughing again. "I mean I could rob a bank, but where's the novelty in _that_? Sometimes it gets _boring_ doing the same thing over and over and over again."

"Then what do you need us for?" asked Barbara, and the fear in her voice sounded real. Her and Harley were outnumbered, with no weapons or anything, and completely at the clown's mercy.

"Well I think I won the lottery today. For you and your little friend, or cousin, or whoever she is, Wayne will open his checkbook. And I plan on having him add a lot of zeros!"

Harley's heart sank when she understood what was happening. She was glad that Barbara had done all the talking because she wouldn't have been able to say anything anyway. Her throat was dry and she was almost positive her legs were shaking.

They were being kidnapped and held for ransom.

She had just enough time to glance at Barbara and see that she was just as scared as her before the henchmen moved into place. They threw black cloth bags over their heads and cuffed their hands behind their backs. Harley could hear the clown laughing before the sound of a spraycan reached her ears. She was helpless to fight off the sleep gas as it made its way into her lungs.

And then everything went black.

* * *

 **Sadly, I had more messages than reviews regarding this story, which bummed me out a little bit. If you get a chance, please let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear from you.**

 **And as always, thanks so much for reading. See you soon!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks to all of you for being so patient. I know I promised to be quicker on the updates, but life gets in the way and it sucks. The good news is that I'm trying really hard to keep up with my promise to finish this story. And it's a promise I'll keep.**

 **I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I really hope you guys like it.**

* * *

The steady dripping of a pipe woke Harley out of her deep state of unconsciousness. Funny how something so simple could accomplish such a feat. Or maybe it was a feeling deep inside her being that urged her to wake up so she could keep fighting. Either way, she was up, and she was alone.

Alone might not have been the best word. She was in a room and a goon was guarding the door, but Barbara wasn't with her.

The room was dimly lit and smelled of sulfur. Harley glanced in every direction to see that she was in a storage of some sort, with dusty boxes on old, rusted metal shelves that lined the walls around her. It wasn't a very large room, but it was enough for the man guarding her to stay by the door and not be next to her. If he were closer, she might be able to surprise him with an attack so she could get out of there.

That is, if she wasn't tied to the chair she was sitting in.

Her hands were tied behind her back and to the backrest of the chair itself. Her ankles were also strapped to the chair's legs, rendering her completely helpless. She couldn't tell if the goon had already noticed that she was awake, but she decided that it was best not to make it known. For now.

What was she going to do? She needed a plan. If Bruce were in her position, he would have formed a plan by now. He would have figured out how to not only escape, but he would have taken care of the guard by the door and all without even being detected. Could she do the same?

No. Definitely not.

How the hell could she do _anything_ when she couldn't even _move_? A quick tug of every limb proved what she already knew. There was no getting out of there without making noise. She had been tied to the chair with a thick rope that reminded her of the kind used to tie boats to the harbor. And if she was in such an old building that might be for storage or shipping, then it was very likely that she was in some kind of unused warehouse out by Gotham Bay. A possibility that seemed even more probably taking into consideration the fact that the clown needed to stay in abandoned buildings to remain undetected.

Harley could hear heavy footsteps outside the door, along with an occasional cackle from the clown. The more she tried to concentrate on what was going on beyond the door, the more she could make out and put together.

A few muffled voices became clear enough to listen for a few minutes. They were having a conversation about trades and phone calls and money. Lots of money. Then one of them would go off and make one of those phone calls. It didn't take her long to realize what was happening.

Although Bruce Wayne had been the main target in this grand scheme, he hadn't been the only one in their sights. Other wealthy citizens of Gotham's elite had been chosen to be terrorized by the Joker. He and his goons had apparently kidnapped many family members or significant others in order to hold some leverage over them. His endgame: ransom money.

The only time she could hear the clown was when he let out a bone-chilling laugh that echoed throughout every part of the building and never failed to make Harley uneasy. She could almost _feel_ the malice that clung to every soundwave of that laugh when it reached her ears. It made her want to break free of the ropes just so she could lean over and hurl the contents of her stomach.

There were also sounds of more people being brought in and thrown into other rooms, most likely victims that were unfortunately related to someone rich. Some were screaming, others were crying, and others didn't say anything. Harley heard them being dragged along and placed into those rooms, awaiting their fate.

At one point she heard a scream, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. There was absolutely no way of knowing for sure, but Harley was almost positive that it belonged to Barbara.

What were they doing to her? Were they torturing her? She wanted so much to be there for her friend and slit the throat of any person that did her any harm, but she was as useless as always.

Harley wanted to cry out in frustration. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in rage for not being able to do anything. Dumb old Harley. Can't do anything to help. It was a laughable concept to think of herself as an equal among Bruce, Dick, and Barbara.

No.

She _wasn't_ useless. She _wasn't_ a dumb girl who couldn't do anything. Harley was better than that, and she felt almost embarrassed with herself at that point. Bruce would be furious with her if he found out just how bad she was putting herself down. She had to stay calm and figure this out with a clear mind.

Well, the only thing that came to mind for now was rubbing her bracelet for good luck. It got her past the toughest moments and it wouldn't fail her now. Even if all it did was give her the courage to try the next step, it was all she needed.

Going over the small charms with the fingertips of the opposite hand, she thought about everything the bracelet meant to her. It was the last tangible connection to her parents and all they had taught her. It was also the reason Bruce had interacted with her for the first time on a different level than the usual hero/villain one.

She was going over each individual one when something poked her finger and she nearly cried out in pain. Biting her tongue to suppress the urge, Harley picked up the charm again, examining it in detail with only her touch. She couldn't figure out what it was, but she was positive there had never been anything sharp on her bracelet. The thought of one of her charms breaking made her angry. It must have happened when they dragged her here, or maybe when they were tying her up. Either way, her bracelet would never be the same…and they were going to pay for it.

Using her new hatred to fuel her imagination, she quickly began rubbing the sharp charm against the rope. It was going to be a while, but she was determined to cut through it and get out of the chair.

Just as she imagined, the task was a lengthy one, but the rope finally gave out and her hands were free. She was careful to hold onto it so it wouldn't drop and give her away. The goon still hadn't realized that she was awake, and now that her hands were free, it was time for action.

Harley pretended to stir in her chair before putting on a show of having a coughing fit. She coughed as hard as she could, not caring that it was the most unattractive thing she'd willingly done in her entire life. Mucus and spit was flying out of her face and she did her best to turn her head so she wouldn't get them all over herself. When she was done, she sat there panting heavily.

"Can I have some water or somethin'?" she asked the guard at the door.

He hadn't moved from where he was, simply turning to look at her to make sure she didn't have more complications besides the coughing. At her request, he gave her an odd stare that only made her frown.

"Please? I'm sure your boss wouldn't be too happy if one of his bargaining chips died on your watch because you wouldn't give me a simple glass of water, now would he?"

The goon seemed to consider that before deciding she was right. No telling what the Joker would do to anyone he felt displeased with, whether they worked for him or not.

"You try anything funny, and I'll make sure you beg for me to take you to him," the goon growled before opening the door and slipping out. Harley heard the sound of a key turning before his footsteps grew more and more distant.

Bringing her hands forward, Harley scrambled to find the sharp charm so she could free her legs from the restraints. When she saw what it was, however, she smiled softly and pressed the charm to her lips in a small kiss. None of her charms had broken. Instead, a tiny bat symbol charm hung proud with the rest of hers. The tips of the wings had a small point to them, which had been enough to cut through the rope.

When had Bruce put that there? How had she not realized it before? He would truly never stop surprising her.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Harley quickly went to work with the rope around her ankles. She had just finished the second one when she heard the footsteps outside the door. By the time the goon unlocked the door and stepped inside, she had wrapped the rope tightly around her legs so that it looked like they were still tied to the chair, and she put her hands behind her back.

"You gonna let me go so I can drink?" she asked him, eyeing the water bottle he had brought her.

"In your dreams," he replied gruffly. "Open wide and I'll pour. You're not getting untied."

As soon as he was close enough, the unsuspecting goon was tackled to the ground after a swift kick to his private parts. As he lay there in pain, Harley quickly picked up the chair and brought it down on his head, knocking him out instantly.

Harley stayed perfectly still just in case the noise prompted someone else to rush in and see what was going on. Luckily, nothing like that happened. It was just as quiet as ever, even more so since the sounds of other people had died down. Taking a deep breath just to calm her nerves, Harley took the goon's keys and went to the door. It wasn't locked, as the goon had only done so when he left the room, but maybe she might find where Barbara was being kept, and the keys might come in handy.

Opening the door slowly, Harley peered in both directions. There wasn't a soul in sight, and the hallway was a lot darker than she expected. If they were truly in a warehouse by the docks, she was probably in the area with all the offices and storage rooms. Door after door came up on both her left and right as she walked cautiously through the dark.

Harley wanted to check every room in case Barbara was there, but she had no plan after that. No doubt every other person brought here was being guarded, and the element of surprise could only work for so long. Her best option, no matter how much she hated it, was to leave Barbara here so she could find a way to contact Bruce. And then they could form a _real_ plan.

She was just about to go looking for an exit when the sound of the clown's laugh came from directly behind her. A half second later she felt a deadly grip on her wrist, roughly turning her around to face him.

"How exciting!" he cackled in her face. "I love a plot twist! Just like a punchline no one expected, only better!"

"Let me go!" she shouted, but it was no use. His grip was so tight it was making her dizzy, which made it difficult to think about anything else.

"Not so fast!" he grinned. "Why take my fun away so soon? I didn't plan for anyone to try and escape. I didn't think anyone capable of it, but here you are! Now it's just time to roll along and improvise. All good comedians can improvise, right?"

He pulled her along violently, not caring that she let out a yelp of pain. The clown clearly had a plan in mind because he walked confidently, and it wasn't in the direction of the room she was being kept in. What was he going to do with her?

She should have searched the goon's pockets for a knife or something. Maybe it would have helped her now. The only thing that came to mind was using her teeth to distract him enough so she could run as fast as she could. The moment she tried it though, the clown stopped and grabbed both her wrists and brought them up to either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. His breath was hot and repulsive and she instantly turned away.

"Biting is for _dogs_ ," he growled, clearly unhappy. "Are you a dog? I didn't think so, but…maybe you'd like to _meet_ some? Actually, _there's_ an idea. Maybe you want to meet my babies, a beautiful pair of hyenas that might like your company. Maybe they'd like to-"

His speech stopped so suddenly that Harley immediately knew something was wrong. The grip around her wrists was still there but it wasn't as strong anymore, which was also odd. There was nothing in the world that would make him stop while his twisted mind thought of ways to torture her. Opening her eyes, Harley turned towards him to see what the delay was.

The clown was frozen in place, but he wasn't looking at her. Harley followed his gaze and realized he was staring intently at the bracelet on the wrist he was holding. It was at his eye level now and his eyes were locked onto it.

He was trying to remember where he had seen it. Harley saw the series of emotions that displayed themselves on his face. First it was confusion, then it was recognition, and lastly, utter surprise.

When he turned to look at her once more, she could see it in his eyes. Recognition. That bracelet belonged to Harley Quinn, and he finally knew who she was.

Out of all reactions, Harley found herself smiling. She didn't know why, but she wanted to let him know that she was happy. That she had survived and found a life away from him, one that made her happier than she would ever be with him, despite how many times he had told her the opposite. So she smiled.

That smile soon turned into a wicked grin as she backed away from him. He let her wrists slip out his hands and just stood there with disbelief on his face.

Feeding off of this unlikely expression from the clown, Harley simply stood up straight and kept the grin on her face.

"How's _that_ for a plot twist, Mistah J?"

* * *

 **Two more chapters to go! I would love it if you guys left me a review to let me know what you think. We're almost done, and it's kind of bittersweet, but I love your comments and your thoughts and they help me get through it. Please review!**

 **And like always, thanks so much for taking the time to read. I'll see you guys on the next one! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks everyone for waiting for this update. If I could have it up sooner, I would have. I won't bore you guys down with my usual excuses on how life is busy, so I'll just let you get to the new chapter. I had a lot of fun with it (when I was finally able to finish it and get it edited), and I hope you guys find it fun to read.**

* * *

The clown was speechless. In the entire time she had been with him, Harley had never seen the clown at a loss for words. He always had something cleverly cruel to say, and if he didn't, it was because his laugh was filling the silence.

But now there was nothing. He didn't even move, which resembled the statue-like stance that Bruce could do. Except Bruce did it on command. The clown was doing it now completely involuntarily.

Harley was enjoying seeing the clown so out of his element, so not in control, but she had to get out of there. Taking advantage of the clown's distraction, she pulled a fist back and then punched him in the face as hard as she could, with the hate of his psychological torture over her and also being shot at to fuel her force. It was something she thought she'd never get to do, but now that she had the chance, she wouldn't ruin it.

There was a definite crunch when her knuckles made contact with his nose. He let out a small gasp as he was thrown backwards and away from her, stumbling to the floor. As soon as he was down, Harley moved on to the next part of her plan.

Run.

Harley ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She couldn't tell where she was going and she didn't really care. All she knew was that she had to get far away from the clown. He knew she was alive now and she had even snuck in a pretty nasty punch. She wasn't going to stick around to see if his nose was broken or simply fractured.

It was getting harder to breath and both her legs and lungs were on fire, but Harley kept pushing. Eventually the hallways started to widen a bit and she could see a bright light towards the end of where she was headed. It opened up to a large building that looked almost like a hangar. Harley took a moment to scan the walls for a possible exit.

The building was most likely used to store whatever it was that some cargo ships brought in. There were a few forklifts and cranes, as well as some empty shipping containers, but what caught her attention the most was that about thirty people were tied to chairs, just as she was, but there wasn't a single goon in sight.

It had to be a trap. There was no way they would leave their victims uncared for like that. Someone was setting her up to get captured again and-

Gunshots.

They had come from outside, but they were definitely gunshots. Lots of them. Then there came shouts in the form of orders and the silence took over again. Only the sound of the heavy rain could be heard now. Through the glass windows close to the ceiling of the large building, Harley could see the dark clouds outside that flashed with lightning every so often, but she could tell it wasn't night time just yet.

There was a commotion outside, which probably meant the goons were dealing with some trouble. Because there had been so many people kidnapped, the cops were probably involved already in an effort to rescue them. Even if Bruce was already out of his meetings, it would take him some time to find where they were and then even more time to actually get there. Perhaps the red blur was already there and helping the police.

Deciding to use the time to help everyone out of their chairs, Harley ran over to the unconscious victims and was rewarded with the sight of Barbara Gordon. Well, rewarded might have been the wrong word for it. Barbara was beaten pretty badly, with bruises all over her arms and neck and blood trickling down one side of her face.

"Barbara!" Harley cried, shaking the young girl by the shoulders. "Wake up! We have to get out of here!"

Harley breathed a sigh of relief when the girl started moving in her chair. Barbara let out a groan, which was most likely due to the pain of whatever injuries she had now, and her eyes slowly opened up to look at Harley.

"Harley?" she croaked in a raspy voice. "How did you…?"

"I can explain later," Harley replied hastily. "Right now, we have to get out of here before they come back!"

Running around to where Barbara's hands were tied behind her back, Harley went to work on the rope. She was frantically trying to get the knots off, using the tiny batsymbol to start sawing away. She was almost through when she heard the low, rumbling laugh of the clown behind her. It was almost more frightening than when he laughed out loud.

She turned around to find him standing about twenty feet away from her with a huge grin on his face. There was blood dripping from his nose but he seemed not to notice it. Or maybe he did but he was too focused on thinking of ways to torture her.

"That," he said in a growl, the smile never leaving his face, "is one of the biggest surprises I've ever had in my life."

"Why?" Harley asked him, keeping her voice as even as possible. She began walking backwards and looking around to see if she could find something to fend him off. Anything.

"I'm just wondering how you survived. You were with the little bat the last time I saw you. Had some help?"

She resisted the urge to shout _"You mean the time you shot me and tried to kill me?"_ but instead decided to keep her cool. She needed to find a way to get out of there.

"The bat got me to out of the city and I spent some time in Metropolis. You know there's more rich guys here in Gotham? I had to come back to finish my harvest. Soon I'll have enough to retire and never come back."

The words seemed to affect the clown. She thought that maybe it meant he actually cared about her, but of course she was wrong. "Interesting choice of work after everything I gave you," he said in a low voice. "I should have finished you when I had the chance."

If she were still hooked on the clown, his words would have bitten into Harley's soul and made her heart ache. But she was over him, and now the words rung clearly in her ears and made her realize the exact meaning that was laced behind them. The clown was upset that she was alive because she had spent so much time away from him and not under his control. Now he was upset because she claimed to be a prostitute and she wasn't for him to have anymore.

Instead of having all that, he would rather have her dead so that she wouldn't continue being accessible to anyone if it wasn't him.

How would he react if she told him the only man to ever touch her was his sworn enemy?

"Maybe you should have," she said coldly. "But you didn't. You _couldn't_. And now you can't do anything about it."

"Spoken too soon!" he shouted, lunging towards her with his arms extended. The expression on his face was of pure rage and something else that she had seen a few times. There was a trace of the insanity that showed through every time he was in the process of torturing. Harley wanted to turn around and run, but the moment she saw that look on his face, she knew he was determined to cause pain. And if she somehow managed to get away, he would just take his anger out on a very vulnerable Barbara.

She had to stay and fight.

The clown kept charging and Harley stayed exactly where she was. She took a deep breath and decided to focus on everything Bruce had taught her. Counting his steps, Harley zoned in on the clown's approaching mass and just a few meters before he reached her, she spun with a low kick and swept his feet right from under him.

There was a loud thud as his body hit the floor, along with a grunt, but he was up in no time. No doubt his rage was fueling his vigor and his determination to fight. Harley tried not to lose her advantage and delivered a swift kick to his chest just as he was getting up. He was pushed back a few feet before he attempted to get up one more time. Just like the first time, Harley planted her left foot on the ground firmly before extending her right one to connect it with his ribcage. The clown was ready for it this time however, and just as she was about to hit him, he grabbed her ankle with astonishing speed and twisted it, sending her sprawling to the ground on her left.

Harley hit the ground hard and felt the air leave her lungs. She was left gasping for air as she pressed on her upper stomach. It was hard to concentrate on fighting the clown and trying to catch your breath again, but soon it didn't matter. The clown was over her in an instant and delivered a powerful punch to her face, keeping her on the ground. She forced her eyes open to see him standing there, grin ever present and a small, sharp dagger in his hand.

"Sorry, doll. Did that hurt?" he sneered. "No need to cry about it! How about we…work on putting a smile on that face?"

The sound of breaking glass forced both of them to turn to the end of the building. The window near the ceiling had shattered as the Batman swung through to land inside. He looked just as menacing as ever and seemed as if not a day had gone by when he didn't wear his armored suit. Even if it had been some time, the suit was a part of him and it never took him long to get back into the motion of everything. He proved this even more by taking off as soon as he was on the ground, not stopping until he had tackled a once-again-surprised Joker onto the ground away from her.

Harley was getting up when she saw Robin rush in and head straight for Barbara. In that moment it was easy to see just how much he had grown, even in the time she had been with all of them as an ally. Perhaps it was the urgency to care for his friend, but Robin seemed to effortlessly pick her up and carry her away with surprising speed.

Taking the girl she had been kidnapped with away first would have probably been suspicious, at least to Harley. Especially since she was the commissioner's daughter and therefore connected to the efforts done by the city and the bat to get Harley, but then she realized Barbara wasn't the first one rescued.

A mysterious red blur was zooming in and out of the building, and every time a flash of red sparks appeared, one more hostage was gone.

"Get them all out of here!" shouted the Batman, pushing them to move faster. He was on his way to Harley himself as he directed Robin and the red blur. She saw the fierceness in his demeanor, the seriousness that he was handling the situation with, but as soon as he was close enough for her to see his eyes, her heart broke just a little. His piercing blue eyes were filled with horror and fear. He had done everything he could to make sure she was never ever in danger again, especially from the clown, but here she was. If it weren't for him, she might even be dead by now for what she had done to the clown's nose.

His suit was scratched, cracked, and dirty in a few places and she could see the blood coming from a busted lip. She had no idea how he had gotten so damaged, but it was highly likely he had to get through some of the chaos outside just to get to her.

She was still thinking of what to say to him when a mysterious puff of green smoke exploded right in front of them. Bruce took a majority of the hit, which immediately brought him to his knees in a coughing fit, although it sounded like he was trying very hard to keep from laughing and screaming out loud.

The tiny bit of smoke that Harley inhaled produced its effects immediately, which made her scared for what Bruce was going through. Her head was pounding and suddenly everything was spinning out of control. She could see Bruce on the ground spasming in pain, and she was sure he was feeling a much stronger effect of how her muscles seemed to contract and release involuntarily. She wanted so much to help him but for some reason the sight of Bruce on the ground was suddenly so… _funny_.

"Amazing what some of Scarecrow's hallucinogens can do when mixed with a little Joker gas, eh?" she heard the clown say in a muffled voice.

She turned her head to the side as best as she could to see him stepping towards her in a gas mask. The eyes were glowing a bright red and somehow he had managed to show his stupid grin from underneath it. Or was it just her seeing things? Either way, it was the most horrible and most hilarious thing she had ever seen in her life.

A single backhand was enough to send her backwards onto the glass-covered floor again. The shards bit into her back and the haziness left her vision just enough for her see the clown step over her and punch her right in the nose before laughing.

"Doesn't feel so nice, now does it?" he cackled. Lowering himself so that he was kneeling right over her chest and pinning her there, the clown delivered another swing that connected with her left cheekbone. "You should have stayed dead," he growled. Then he laughed again.

The pain seemed to snap her out of more of the gas, but now her head was hurting from her nose injury. He was still laughing and she had no doubts he would go in for another punch. Looking around frantically for a way to get him off, she grabbed a shard of glass from next to her and stabbed up, inserting it right into the clown's ribcage.

The grunt that erupted from his lips cut his laughter clean off and he looked down immediately. First he surveyed the source of pain, then he turned to look into her eyes. Harley could see a lot more clearly now and his mask no longer looked alive, but she knew that behind the glass were eyes that were filled with both rage and hatred.

So she pulled out the glass and stabbed it back in.

He let out another noise and tried his best to stumble away but Harley held onto the glass shard to keep him there. She could feel the blood gushing out from his side and knew it was just as painful as it looked since the clown refused to move erratically, even if it was to get away from her. Before he could think of a new plan, Harley took the glass out and stuck it in again one more time, this time finishing it off with a twist.

Seeing that he was bleeding uncontrollably now, Harley kicked him off and did her best to stand. The green smoke that had attacked both her and Bruce had dissipated into the air but Bruce was still on the ground. Focusing on trying not to fall over, she made her way over to him and kneeled next to his head, checking his neck for a pulse. She knew he was alive due to the strained breathing, but she wanted to know what the gas had done to him, whether it had quickened his pulse or made it slower.

Mostly all of the hostages were out now but the noise outside continued. In fact, it seemed to get a lot worse. Not only was there the sound of bullets, but Harley could also hear small explosions going off. Were the red blur and Robin taking them on by themselves? Actually, the red blur was still rushing in to save people, so Robin _had_ to be the only one.

Harley had to find a way to help him. She could almost imagine him jumping from roof to roof trying to distract everyone while the red blur got everyone out. They were busy and couldn't do anything to help her.

That's why when the four goons walked into the warehouse with automatic weapons and pointed them straight at her, she knew it was over.

She had no regrets. She had done everything she could to make her life better, and finding love wasn't planned but it was just the icing on the cake. Time seemed to slow down and Harley stopped caring about the bullets that were flying her way. Stroking Bruce's hair away from his face and caressing his cheek, she smiled one last time. If she was going to die, it was next to the man she had given her heart to, and nothing could ever top that.

Except the end never came.

She heard the gunshots continue but nothing was happening. When she decided to tear her eyes away from Bruce, she saw that the bullets were being blocked by a huge transparent sheet of green. There was honestly no other way to describe it. Looking for the source of it, she had to look up to see a man dressed in the same color green with his fist out to her and Bruce, which seemed to be the source of the green shield. How in the hell was he staying in the air like that? Was he freakin/ _flying_?

Harley was still processing that when another man came through the window to deal with the goons inside the building. He was moving pretty fast, but the way he was doing so led Harley to believe he was also flying, except he was wearing blue. It was funny how much he looked like Bruce, with dark hair, an imposing frame of muscles, and a long cape behind him, except his was red. A few punches to render the men unconscious was all it took for him to deal with the threat. He gave the man in green a nod and then he was gone, probably to keep dealing with the chaos outside.

"Everyone's out," came a voice from behind them. Harley turned to see a young man dressed in red with a lightning bolt across his chest. If this was the red blur, then she was truly surprised to see how young he was. Maybe around Barbara's age.

"That's good," replied the flying man in green. "We have no idea how long this will go on. Luthor's mercenaries are-"

"We have company!" came a cry from somewhere else in the warehouse, causing all of them to turn. A woman had run in to help fight off about ten more people coming in from the opposite entrance. She was stunningly gorgeous and dressed in blue, red, and gold. Her black hair was adorned with a beautiful gold tiara while her wrists were covered in long bracelets, but none of this took away from her fierceness. The tall woman was all business and fought with grace and power as her and the two other men took on the goons.

Harley went back to trying to help Bruce. These people were there to help and they apparently knew what they were doing. If they knew the red blur then it was possible that they also knew Bruce, but they needed help in getting him out. Searching his belt, Harley pressed a button that instantly started flashing. She had to wait about twenty seconds before Robin came back into the building on his motorcycle, throwing pellets of smoke to give him some cover.

He had to have left Barbara somewhere safe because she was no longer with him and he didn't seem to be worried about her. Now, his focus was on Bruce.

"Careful!" shouted the man in green, pointing to another group of men that came in to deliver more bullets. It only took Robin half a second to register the words before he pushed his motorcycle in between the gunfire and his fallen father figure.

A huge rumbling crash that shook the entire building caused everyone to look up for a split second before they resumed the fighting. Massive amounts of water poured in through the now broken windows before dying down to the regular amount due to the rain.

"Jones, what the hell was that?" shouted the man in green into his wrist. There was a response almost instantly that seemed to make him both smile and frown at the same time.

"What did John say it was?" the woman asked him over the gunfire.

This time the man in green smiled wider. "He said Arthur's getting a little carried away with the tsunamis."

"That's not good," whispered Robin, but only Harley could hear him. A few bullets hit the motorcycle covering them, causing both of them to duck lower.

"We have to get him out of here," she pleaded desperately. As if she needed to tell him.

"On it," he said with a firm nod, pushing another button on the belt.

"The Batmobile?" she asked, recognizing the button. "Why would we call for the Batmobile while we're indoors? Wouldn't that-"

The Batmobile had no consideration to human architecture and simply created its own door as it made its way inside. It stopped just a few feet away from them and sat patiently, waiting for the next command. Robin wasted no time in opening the door, ushering Harley to help pick Bruce up. They got him in safely and quickly before Robin told Harley to get in. The boy was the last to jump inside before reaching for one more pellet from his belt.

"Time to go!" he shouted to the rest of the team. Right before he closed the door to the Batmobile, he threw the pellet right under his motorcycle. Once the door was closed, Robin revved the engine and sped out through the same hole it created on its way in.

Harley sat up in her seat and looked back before they left completely. The man in green was the last of the three allies to leave before the pellet exploded, causing an even bigger mess due to the gasoline in Robin's motorcycle. Chunks of metal flew everywhere and she heard some of the goons cry out in pain and distress.

The last image she saw before they were out of the building was the body of the Joker, bleeding out and unconscious as his surroundings erupted in flames. By the time they were about a hundred feet away, the entire building was covered in smoke and fire. There was a whirlwind of emotions that were flying around inside her, but the most important one was that she was safe, and Bruce was safe, and they were together.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked her, his eyes still on the road.

"I'm a lot better now," Harley replied honestly, offering him a smile.

The boy nodded at that, but it didn't take long before he broke the silence again.

"Harley?" he said slowly.

"Yes?" she asked with a slight frown, sensing his hesitation.

"Umm," he began, swallowing nervously. "Please don't tell Bruce I drove his car."

Harley smiled and shook her head, letting a small laugh escape her lips. "I don't think he'll mind this time," she said. "But I'll make sure it stays between you and me."

He seemed to relax after that, but Harley didn't stop smiling until they made it home.

* * *

 **There's only one more chapter. I can't believe I'm almost done with this story. The end is painfully slow, I know, but I made a promise to finish it and that's what I'm going to do.**

 **Again, thank you all so much for being patient and also for sending me kind messages reminding me to update. It was honestly humbling to see so many PM's waiting for me when I logged back on after so much time.**

 **Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Did you catch everyone who may or may not have made an appearance? I stayed away from superhero names, but I'm pretty sure you guys know. Please leave me a review or send me a message!**

 **Thanks for reading, and see you soon for the last chapter.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Here we go with the last chapter. It's a bittersweet moment but it's one that I knew one day would arrive and now it's here :(**

 **I really hope you guys like this one. Not too much goes on but hopefully it wraps everything up decently.**

* * *

It took everyone a few days to recover from all of their injuries, but in the end they did. Barbara had to say she was out north and fell from a cliff while hiking to explain all of the cuts and bruises, and although the commissioner didn't look like he believed it at all, he scolded her and told her to be more careful next time.

Bruce had woken up during the drive back to the cave and was able to painfully climb out of the Batmobile by himself. As assured by Harley, he wasn't angry in the slightest about Robin driving the car. He simply asked a few questions to clear his mind of any worry about everyone getting out safe. Struggling over to the large computer screens, he pulled a small phone from a secret compartment and dialed a number. There were a few whispers that went back and forth, but when he hung up, he looked visibly more relaxed.

After that, he walked over to Harley and embraced her, putting his strong arms around her and keeping her there. She was tired, she was injured, but she leaned further into him and did her best to hug him back. After everything they had gone through, she was glad they could just hold each other.

"Master Bruce," came Alfred's voice from behind them, causing them both to turn around. "Ms. Gordon is in the recovery room. She should wake shortly."

"Thank you, Alfred," smiled Bruce, giving his older friend a nod. He then turned back to Harley. "How did you guys get me out?"

"We, uh…" she thought for a moment, trying to think of the best way to put it. Although it wasn't likely, it was still a possibility that the ones who helped them weren't Bruce's friends. "We…had some help."

"They actually made it?" Bruce asked her with a curious look. It was the kind of look that made her think she was supposed to know what the hell he was talking about.

"You mean the green guy and the red blur?"

"Green guy…" said a voice from above them, nearly making Harley cry out in surprise. She looked up to see the man who had helped them in the storage facility, and now Harley was absolutely _sure_ he could fly. He was simply hovering there with an amused look. "Not very flattering, but I've definitely been called worse."

"Harley, meet Hal," said Bruce, backing up slightly to sit on the chair.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Hal," she smiled up at him, truly grateful to at least meet him semi-formally. "Thank you for what you did back there."

His green suit had a certain glow to it that seemed to cover him from head to toe. He had a tiny mask that covered his face, almost like the one Robin wore, as it did very little to cover his face and hair. The bronze hair was left uncovered, as well as his neck, chin, and forehead. The soft, pulsing aura that seemed to flow through his body came from both the strange symbol on his chest and the giant ring on his right hand.

"No problem," he replied with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harley looked back down at Bruce but had to do a double take. She hadn't heard or seen anything, but in the few seconds she had looked up to greet the man in the green suit, the red blur had made it into the cave and was now standing next to Bruce casually, as if he had been there the whole time.

"And this is Barry," smiled Bruce, clearly entertained with her astonishment of everything.

"I remember," Harley said, thinking back to a day when she had seen some of Bruce's research. "From Central City," she nodded. "Nice to meet you."

"We having a meet-n-greet?" asked Barbara as she came into the main area of the cave. She had her arm around Dick, who was helping her walk so she wouldn't fall over. The bruises and cuts on the visible areas of her skin had received treatment. She had a few bandages and one of the larger cuts on her arm had stitches.

"This is Hal and Barry!" smiled Harley, finally feeling truly happy now that she saw all her friends together and alive. She didn't want to know exactly what had been done to Barbara while they were at the warehouse, but she was a strong girl, and if she was anything like Harley had come to know, the girl would push forward no matter what.

"Your dynamic duo goes by Halle Berry?" she asked, giving both of them a once over.

Harley let the laugh escape her lips before she cleared her throat. "No! This is Hal," she said, pointing at the one in green, "and this is Barry," she finished by pointing at the one in red.

"Oh," Barbara said with a sheepish smile. "I thought you said- nevermind. It's very nice to meet both of you."

"Pleasure," smiled Barry, who after speaking gave away the fact that he really was a boy, at least to Harley and Bruce.

"Nice to meet you too," added Hal, who had a deeper, more confident tone.

"I guess the next thing I want to tell you guys is how grateful I am. Thanks for helping out and getting me home. I owe yo- Ah!"

Both Harley and Barbara cried out in surprise and slight horror as a shape came out of the ground in front of them. It literally emerged from the stone floor like a ghost, slowly rising until it stood tall and proud in front of them, its arms crossed over its chest.

It was a man, as far as Harley could tell. No hair anywhere, his skin was a dark pale green, and his eyes were a bright orange, almost red. He wore an outfit that highlighted a red cross over his torso, and the cape that draped behind him was almost as long and dark as Bruce's. This newcomer said nothing, simply staying there motionless and studying them quietly.

"This is John Jones," announced Bruce. He said so in a tone that let them know he was part of the team and not to be feared. Harley smiled back as best she could and tried not to think about what she had just seen. When Barbara didn't say anything either, Bruce laughed. "Let's just keep it simple for now and say he…isn't exactly from around here."

Harley remembered hearing the name during the commotion in the warehouse. It was apparently he with whom Hal had been communicating with and getting information about what was happening outside.

Barbara pulled her eyes away from the new guy and let out a nervous laugh. "Any other new friends you want to introduce us to?"

"Maybe just a few," said Bruce with a smug smile, looking out into the cave towards the tunnels. Everyone followed his lead to see a group of three more people coming towards them. The one in the middle was definitely the man Harley had seen in the red cape and the dark red suit, except he was wearing a button-up and a tie now. The spectacles on his face were a pathetic attempt to disguise himself, and if he thought they were fooling anyone, then it was truly a laughable concept. His dark hair and imposing frame were still visible, and there was a hint of a smile on his face.

The woman to his right was still dressed in her colorful armor and tiara. Every step she took exuded confidence and self-respect. Her facial features were sharp, beautiful, and somehow still incredibly friendly. Nothing about her seemed to outwardly challenge the male dominance in the room, and somehow that made her all the more intimidating and fierce without trying.

On the other side was another man Harley had never seen before. He had sandy blond hair and a frame just as muscular as everyone there, except he was wearing…fish skin? The suit he wore was almost definitely made of scales, which were colored a dark yellow from the waist up while adopting an emerald green for the pants and elbow-length gloves. He greeted them all with a smile but stayed quiet just like the rest.

"This is Clark, Diana, and Arthur," said Bruce, motioning towards them with a wave of his hand. The three of them gave a simple nod and a smile, not offering any comment. The silence didn't last, however, and soon Bruce had spoken up again. "Now," he said, smiling at the blond man, "would you like to tell me what in the _hell_ you were thinking with those killer waves?"

"Well," the man replied, returning the smile while a blush rose to his face. "Some of the buildings were starting to catch fire and-"

"Don't give me that!" said Diana with a playful shove, letting out a hearty laugh. "That's not what you told _me_!"

"Let me guess," piped in Barry. "He said we needed the help because we weren't handling it and would have totally been lost without him and-"

"I never said that!" Arthur laughed, shaking his head.

"It kind of sounds like you," added Bruce, finding his chair once more and motioning to Alfred. The older man had drinks for everyone in an instant while everyone began arguing about who did the most and what Arthur had _really_ said.

It was hard not to smile and get drawn in by the lovely atmosphere in the cave. Harley noticed that Barbara and Dick were smiling too, seemingly affected just as much as her by the contagious laughter. Having all the people around made the cave feel crowded, but in the best way possible.

Maybe having others around wasn't such a bad idea. Perhaps what they needed was for things to be a bit more crowded, not just in the cave but in the mansion. There was so much room at Wayne Manor, and having a family was all she ever wanted. She wanted to think more about what that would mean for her and Bruce, but the butterflies were starting to flutter in her stomach and she forced the thoughts away for the moment. Instead, she joined in on the laughter and playful banter that had filled the cave.

* * *

That meeting with everyone had been a few days before. Now, Harley was sitting in the garden with a glass of orange juice and a pair of binoculars. There was so much beauty around her, from the daisies to the roses to the hummingbirds to the occasional squirrel that came around and tried to find one more acorn before the winter.

How had she not noticed things like this before? How had she ever stopped appreciating the little things? How did she ever doubt that things could be so much better for her?

Maybe things weren't perfect. Maybe she couldn't get a job and live a real life, but she could find things to do while at the house. It was difficult to leave when part of the city would still recognize her, even with a different hair color, and report her to the authorities if they saw her. It was also going to be dangerous for her to leave because there was still no sign of the clown.

She was almost positive he was still there when the building went down in flames, but Bruce wasn't so sure. No one was able to recover anything that might verify that claim, and the only sure way to know was if there were a body to examine. Then again, even after finding something like that, nothing was certain. Bruce had gone through hell to convince the world that Harley Quinn had died from a shooting in a park one night after a prison break at Arkham. He had put in all that work just to fabricate a lie.

The day before, some time after they had let everything settle, Harley and Bruce had a long talk. It was lengthy conversation, one with a lot of input and opinion from both sides, but in the end they decided that him returning to the life of fighting crime was for the best. The world was changing, and although there were other gifted and courageous people trying to save the world, it was important to make sure your city was protected. That's why Bruce Wayne had to pick up the cowl again and return to the role of the Batman. It was something she wasn't too ecstatic about but knew she couldn't be selfish. There were many brave men and women who waited for their significant other, or any other family member, to return from jobs where they put their lives on the line to help others. If they could do it, then so could Harley.

She was waiting for him now, hoping he would get home within the next hour. They had dinner plans and she had something special arranged for him. With so much time at home, Alfred had been giving her cooking lessons, and tonight's dinner had been made completely on her own. She would leave out the detail of how Alfred stood by closely to make sure she didn't burn the house down, but Bruce didn't _really_ have to know that.

After dinner, maybe they'd watch a movie together before he had to go out on patrol, and then the waiting game would start all over.

But it was okay.

She would wait until he returned safely to her arms, every single time. Maybe some nights would be better than others but there was honestly nothing more that she wanted to do. Bruce had made a promise to her that he would make it back, and she believed him.

He cared about her. He loved her. And she knew deep down in her heart that he would try his best to keep that promise to her.

She couldn't ask for anything better.

* * *

 **I have to thank all of you for keeping up with this story and being patient with me, even when I took forever to get an update out. I also took more than just a little bit of creative liberty with how the characters are, but you guys went with the flow. The support has been amazing and I can't even tell you how much it means to me. Total strangers who take time out of their lives to read and leave a comment or send me a message... I just never thought I'd be part of something like that.**

 **A story this long has been a true accomplishment for me, and I know it wouldn't have been possible without your help, so again, thank you.**

 **I'd also like to throw out there that...after a little break from this to focus on a few awesome things I have going on in my personal life...I might start a sequel. It's still undecided, and if I did, I'd really have to think about what it would be about, but writing this story and for this fandom really made an impact on me and I enjoyed it immensely. It would be great to continue.**

 **Thanks for reading (I think I've already said that), and please leave me a review to let me know what you think. Or send me a message! Tell me what you thought of the story, of this specific chapter, or maybe what you'd like to see if I get around to writing a sequel. I'd love to have a chat :)**

 **Everyone take care, be kind to each other, and I hope to hear from you guys soon. Have a lovely day!**


End file.
